


Shoon's Greatest Pride

by yutorin



Series: The Heisei Kumi [10]
Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment, Johnny's Jr., Otokogumi, Ya-ya-yah (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Homeless, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Child Abandonment, Child Neglect, Drug Addiction, Found Family, Gen, Guns, Happy Ending, Heroin, Homelessness, Originally Posted in 2016, Originally Posted on LiveJournal, Violence, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-29
Packaged: 2020-11-07 22:49:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20825099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yutorin/pseuds/yutorin
Summary: The first time Shoon had seen Hikaru, he hadn't thought the kid could be saved. That didn't keep him from trying.





	1. Chapter 1

When Shoon had first seen Hikaru, he hadn't been sure if the kid could be saved. At least, that's the way he'd remember it. The first time Shoon had seen Hikaru he hadn't really had any thoughts about the younger boy, as he himself had actually been on the run from an angry fruit stand owner, his heart pounding in his ears, his ratty long sleeved shirt not doing much to take the bite out of the chill in the November air, one apple in each hand as he'd raced down the alley, dusk settling over the town. Hikaru had been a small, ratty ball on the alley floor that had flashed by, barely registered as the form of another boy as he'd glanced back over his shoulder to see how close his pursuant was.

He'd managed to escape the fruit stand owner and was safe, cross legged next to a space heater in the tiny abandoned apartment that he called home, his heartbeat just beginning to return to normal, his first apple nearly completely devoured before he remembered the tiny kid he'd seen as he'd made off with his dinner. It wasn't often that he stumbled across other kids out in the street, no possible guardian in sight. The only other homeless kid Shoon knew of was that young, lanky boy that hung out under the bridge on the other side of town. What had this boy been doing, out there all on his own, in a grimy alley, in mid-November?

Shoon tried to tell himself that it didn't matter. What did he care? He had plenty of his own problems, without having to worry about some other kid. He tried not to think about it. Yet, halfway through his second apple he snorted in frustration, and, unable to keep the kid out of his mind, he pulled himself to his feet, away from the warmth and safety of his apartment, and went back out into the night. He ran through the streets, the temperatures even colder now that the sun was set, hoping that when he got to the alley, the boy would be gone. Hoping that the alley would be empty, and he could go back home, his mind at rest.

He nearly tripped over the kid, rounding the corner into the alley and just barely stepping over a pair of sneakers, skidding to a halt. The boy was unconscious, crumpled against the brick of the alley, his face pink, mouth gaping open, his breathing slow―too slow―and something that Shoon was pretty sure was vomit decorating the front of his jacket, and the ends of his shoes. He was a mess, the symptoms ones Shoon had seen before, in adults who's families had given up on them, drugs swallowing them up, but never in a child. He scared Shoon a little bit, Shoon crouching down next to the kid, and asking

"Hey, are you okay?" He got no response, and he reached out, shaking the kid by the shoulder a little. "Hey." Still nothing. The boy was obviously not okay, Shoon cursing and shaking him harder. the action's only response a rope of drool extending out of the boy's gaping mouth. He glanced around, looking for someone to help. But they were all alone. He turned his attention back to the boy, panicking a bit. He couldn't just leave the kid here. But the kid was obviously on something, and Shoon didn't think he could handle the boy by himself.

He stood there, shivering, looking down at the boy crumpled in the alley for a few moments, indecisive, before leaning down and scooping the kid up, bridal style, and hugging him to his chest as best he could. The boy was smaller than himself, and he barely weighed anything, Shoon able to carry him easily, the boy's body unnaturally cold as he made his way back to the apartment. The way back to the apartment was significantly slower than the way from it, and Shoon considered dropping the boy off somewhere, somewhere other people could find him, but the thought of just abandoning him with a bunch of adults―with no guarantee that they cared about him―fundamentally rubbed Shoon the wrong way. He took the boy back to his apartment, and laid him down next to the space heater, flicking on a lamp to get a better look at the kid, and searching the boy's body for confirmation of his suspicions.

It didn't take long to find proof of drug use, tucked into the boy's jacket pocket was a small pouch, everything he'd need to shoot up―needle, drugs, and all―encased in a thin plastic bag. Shocked, Shoon dropped it as soon as he realized what he was holding, staring in morbid curiosity at the small kid. He crouched down next to the boy on the floor, slowly rolling up his sleeves, to find the inside of the boy's right arm marked with small, discolored scars. Marks of injection. Shoon cursed again, sinking to the floor. He definitely had picked up a drug addict, and, judging on the number of scars the boy had, it wasn't anywhere near his first time.

What could he do? He wasn't going to turn the kid back out on the streets, and he wasn't going to take him to the police. The boy needed help, and Shoon wanted to help him, but he knew that if he was going to get this boy off of drugs, he wouldn't be able to do it on his own. He needed someone he could trust. He didn't have any friends. Adults had done nothing but abandon him his whole life, and there weren't any other kids―there was that bridge boy. Shoon didn't know him very well, but they had a certain camaraderie, and Shoon had slipped the boy an extra juice from the vending machine on more than one occasion. That boy was the closest thing Shoon had to a friend. He was the closest thing Shoon had to a trustworthy companion. He was all Shoon had. And so Shoon pulled himself to his feet, tentatively picking the bag with the needle inside up and giving the kid on his floor one last sweeping glance.

"Just, stay here. Don't...freak out or...die or something while I'm gone." Shoon told the kid, just in case he could still hear him, despite his state, before leaving his apartment again. He ditched the drugs and needle in the first dumpster he saw, and even after they were out of his possession, the knowledge that he had _touched_ them left him feeling contaminated somehow, and he wanted to take a shower, to cleanse himself. But he was on a mission, and he jogged most of the way across town, sticking to alleyways and lesser used streets, to the river. There, to his relief, he saw the boy, sitting out next to a fire, curled up by the little hut he'd constructed for himself, eating what looked like instant ramen. Shoon's stomach growled in jealousy. He ran over to the boy, the kid catching sight of him as he approached, giving him a wary look, but not turning to hide. Once they were finally face to face he just treated Shoon to a perplexed look, staring up at him from where he sat cross legged on the ground, slurping up a mouthful of noodles.

"Hi." Shoon got out, between deep, gulping breaths of the frigid night air. The boy swallowed his noodles, clearing his throat and getting to his feet. He was about as tall as Shoon, but much thinner, barely any muscle on him. "I'm Shoon." He offered, his breathing beginning to slow. The kid gave him a look, eyes unreadable, and Shoon started to feel wary. But then he flashed a slightly bashful smile, ducking his head in a small bow, and said

"I'm-I-I'm Taiyo! Do you want some n-noodles?" Shoon blinked in surprise at the genuine tone and the shy stutter. He glanced down at the ramen cup for a moment, considering it. But that boy back in his apartment couldn't wait while he ate a meal.

"I actually need your help, Taiyo-kun." He paused, wondering for a moment how to go about explaining the situation. But Taiyo was looking at him with big, innocent eyes, and he decided to forgo a detailed description, instead just saying "I found a sick boy, and he needs help, but I can't do it by myself. Will you help me? Please?" He fell into a bow himself, hoping to win over the boy with what little manners he had. He had to. The drugged up kid in his apartment was depending on him. "I don't have anyone else I can ask." Taiyo looked flustered.

"Help you? I-I can try. If you need me to." He was looking around, as if expecting the boy Shoon was talking about to appear in front of them. "Where is he?"

"He's back at my apartment." Shoon gestured in the general direction he'd come, turning. "If you help me you could stay there, instead of out here." Taiyo's eyes lit up at the prospect of a proper shelter, and he nodded, saying quickly

"Just let me get my stuff!" Shoon blinked in surprise at the lighthearted manner the other boy was facing the whole situation with, and he moved closer to the fire as Taiyo disappeared into his little hut. Taiyo scurried around it for a few minutes, Shoon eventually realizing that he was packing up belongings into a blanket. There were things that made sense, like a rope, packaged cups of ramen, and a toothbrush, but there were also small plastic figures, and a headband with cat ears on it, and Shoon didn't know what to make of any of it. He just watched as the kid gathered up everything he deemed important and carried the bundle back over to where Shoon had squatted by the fire, soaking up all of the warmth he could get. Shoon helped him tie the corners of the blanket together, and after everything was situated they were off, back to the apartment, and to the drugged up boy he had left on his floor.

Shoon wanted to run back, not comfortable with how long he'd left the boy alone. Worried that something could have happened while he was gone. He tried to rush down the streets, but Taiyo faltered behind. He didn't seem to sense Shoon's urgency, walking at his own pace, his head bobbing as he took small, bouncy steps. Shoon's legs were probably shorter, but he would have left Taiyo in the dark if he hadn't stopped every few paces to allow him time to catch up. Shoon's skin was crawling, his veins coursing with anxiety, but he pursed his lips, trying to keep from snapping at this kid. He was the one that had sought Taiyo out after all. He couldn't be complaining now. His resolve lasted until they were nearly there, before he snatched the blanket full of Taiyo's belongings up into his own arms, saying

"We're nearly there, c'mon. I'll carry this, you just follow me, okay?" Taiyo blinked at him in surprise, but he fell into step behind Shoon, and Shoon took off, dashing toward his apartment like he'd been wanting to. He only glanced back once to see if Taiyo was following him, the kid a few paces behind, but running, his eyes wide. Shoon skipped some stairs, pounding up, getting to his doorway and bursting in. It was dark, the hum of the space heater and the sound of slow breathing the only thing his senses could pick up. He dropped Taiyo's bundle in the doorway, concern for the boy he'd left taking precedence, and he scrambled for his handheld lantern, flicking it on and bathing them in light as Taiyo came to the doorway.

He took the few steps over to the heater, casting the boy in light as he knelt down next to him. The kid hadn't really moved, he was laying in more or less the same position he'd been in before, his eyes nearly completely closed. He looked less flushed than when Shoon had left, and Shoon reached out, attempting to check the boy's temperature. But when he pressed his palm to the kid's forehead he realized that his hands were freezing, the boy starting, eyes flying open, and and he gave Shoon a strange, slightly disengaged look of confusion and fear, his limbs starting to move, as he attempted to pull himself away.

"What's the matter with him?" Taiyo asked, his voice afraid, and Shoon turned to see the other boy standing a few paces away, watching the kid by the heater with wide eyes.

"He's on drugs, I think." Shoon said quietly, the words tumbling from his lips in a hushed mess, before he turned back to the kid, murmuring "Hey, it's okay. You're okay." He reached out, but the boy scrambled to his feet, before promptly stumbling and falling back on his hands. Shoon's heart was racing in his chest, and he was afraid, afraid for the boy. He knew he could handle the kid if he tried to attack them, but he didn't want him to run away. It was too late at night, too cold, and the boy was too alone, too messed up, to be able to take care of himself. He drew his hand away, taking a step back, and the boy froze his eyes fixed on Shoon. "Do you want some water?" He made his way over to the kitchen, snatching a water bottle from the pack he'd stolen a few days prior and twisting off the lid.

"Here." He tried to keep his voice low, gentle like he'd seen parents talk to their children when they skinned their knee in the park. He held out the water bottle, murmuring "It'll be okay." The boy just watched him, head slightly bowed as if it was too heavy. Shoon waited a moment to see if he would reach for the water, and when he didn't Shoon sat down, scooting a bit closer. "It's for you." Slowly, still wary, the boy reached out, and once he had the bottle in his hand he jerked it away from Shoon's grasp, spilling some of its contents down their fingers and onto the floor. He paid it no mind, putting the bottle to his lips and downing it all as if he had been on the verge of terminal dehydration, the water spilling down his chin, dripping onto his shirt. The boy didn't acknowledge the mess he'd made, just working on trying to get every last drop from the bottle. Shoon turned to Taiyo, saying

"I have a blanket. Over there―" He pointed to the doorway to his bedroom. Taiyo nodded. "―it's in there on the floor, with the futon. Get it. Please?" Taiyo nodded, skirting around the edge of the room and disappearing off into the dark bedroom. After a crashing noise he returned, looking a little sheepish, the blanket in his hands. Shoon took the fabric, inching closer to the kid still fighting with his water bottle, until they were side by side, and draping the blanket over his shoulders. The boy stilled, his body slumping and Shoon ran his hand over the boy's shoulders through the blanket, trying to offer some comfort. When the boy didn't startle away, he wrapped the arm around the kid's shoulders, pulling him close.

The kid slumped heavily into his side, and Shoon leaned back against the wall, trying to get comfortable. The boy still didn't seem to be fully aware, drooling a bit onto Shoon's shoulder, his eyes glassy in the light of the lantern. It wasn't long before they drooped shut, Taiyo crouched down on the other side of the heater, watching them quietly. But then he turned away, grabbing at his bundle of things, and for a moment Shoon thought that he was leaving, bailing on them. But then he turned back around, a blanket and a rope in his hands, and he crouched down, wrapping the rope around his ankle, before tying it around one of the drugged up kids own. The knot was sloppy, but Taiyo tugged at it, satisfied when it held.

"So he doesn't run away." Taiyo explained. Shoon was impressed by the innovative thinking, nodding and saying

"Tie mine too." Once they were all tied together Taiyo wrapped himself up in his blanket, curling up in a ball between their feet and the heater. It was probably the best spot in the apartment Shoon mused, watching in the dim light of the lantern for a few moments before flicking it off, immersing them in darkness, before he too fell asleep.

He woke to a sharp tug on his ankle, and he jolted up, suddenly alert. The sunlight was just barely beginning to creep through the window, and he cursed, his heart pounding. The boy from the night before was awake, looking at him with eyes wide with fear, his hands trying to undo the sloppy knot of rope from around his ankle. Taiyo was still asleep next to them on the floor. Realizing the situation, Shoon let out a sigh of relief, running a hand over his face.

"G'morning." He murmured. The boy didn't react, his eyes fixed on Shoon's face. "I'm not going to hurt you, promise." Shoon told him. The kid's eyes trailed over his body, judging and afraid, and when they came back up to Shoon's face, he couldn't tell if the boy believed him. "Here; how about if you promise not to run away, then I'll untie you?" He offered. The kid swallowed, but after a moment he nodded, and Shoon nodded back, leaning forward and reaching for the knots. As he worked them loose, he explained

"I found you last night, and took you home." He paused, looking over at the boy's face. He seemed much better, eyes bright and alert and surprisingly intelligent. "You look better." He offered, trying to smile, trying not to freak the kid out too much. He got the rope untied, and the boy pulled his leg in toward his body, wrapping his arms around it, before pulling them away in disgust when he noticed the dried vomit on his shoes.

"Who are you?" The boy asked, still taking in his surroundings.

"Shoon. My name is Yamashita Shoon." He paused. "What's your name?" The boy fixed him with one last scrutinizing look, before saying

"Hikaru."


	2. Chapter 2

"Well Hikaru, do you want to help me make breakfast?" The boy visibly perked up at the mention of food, his eyes meeting Shoon's and nodding, his whole face plastered with a familiar want. The boy was probably starving. Shoon wondered just how long he'd been on the streets, but now was not the time to ask that question. Food took priority over everything else. Shoon pulled himself to his feet, padded over to the bundle Taiyo had brought and snagged two instant ramen cups out of it, setting them on the counter and putting some water in a pot and placing it on the stove, the heat turned up extraordinarily high in an attempt to make it boil faster. The boy just followed behind him silently, observing him as he worked.

They stood in silence as they waited for the water to boil, the sunlight beginning to grow stronger, lighting up the room. Shoon did his best to observe the kid without seeming like he was staring. It was proving very difficult, and he tried to think of a conversation topic to break the silence. Shoon was just about to offer that perhaps after breakfast they could wash the kid's clothes free of the dried vomit when Hikaru pointed at Taiyo―who was still fast asleep on the floor―asking

"You live here with him?"

"Uh...not really? Maybe. His first night here was last night. Like you." Shoon felt that his explanation was rather weak and confusing, and Hikaru didn't say anything, just treating Shoon to an unreadable look. They fell back into silence until the water boiled, Shoon handing him his styrofoam cup of noodles. He expected the kid to snatch it away and scarf it down the way he'd done with the water offered to him the night before. Instead the boy held it in his hands for a moment, warming his fingers and letting the noodles cook properly, and he glanced back up at Shoon, murmuring a thanks for the food.

The behavior took Shoon completely by surprise; the boy wasn't acting like the street rat Shoon had assumed he was, and Shoon led him back to the space heater, sitting down by it and asking

"How long have you been on the street?" The boy blinked in surprise.

"A week." It was Shoon's turn to be surprised. He'd assumed that Hikaru's drug use had come from living on the streets, but apparently that wasn't the case. He wasn't quite sure how to approach that topic quite yet though, so he just nodded and let it go, turning to his cup of noodles. He hadn't realized just how hungry he was until the first bite hit his tongue, his focus drawn completely to his meal until every noodle and drop of broth had been consumed. Hikaru was eating at a slower pace, and although he was definitely hungry, he didn't seem to have a high will to eat.

It was very strange, and Shoon watched him in the light of the now fully risen sun, realizing that Hikaru's hands were trembling. They had a rather startling tremor―perhaps an effect of the drugs, Shoon projected―and maybe that had something to do with why he wasn't eating. He was debating asking about it when Taiyo finally began to wake, the lanky boy rolling on his back and stretching, his eyes fluttering open. He seemed completely calm, but then he sat up, bewilderment on his face as he took in his surroundings. It wasn't until he caught sight of Shoon and Hikaru standing in the kitchen, and then his eyes grew wide, as if caught in an epiphany, and he pointed at the styrofoam cup of noodles in Hikaru's hand, saying

"Those are from my stuff!" For a moment Shoon was afraid that Taiyo would be angry at them for helping themselves to his stash of food, but the lanky boy just stood, pulled the last of the rope off of his ankle, and promptly tripped. A snort of amusement burst past Shoon's defenses, and he tried to cover it up by turning away and busying himself with the pot he'd used to boil water for Hikaru and himself, refilling it to make Taiyo some noodles for his own breakfast. Hikaru meanwhile, retreated into the corner of the room by the fridge, his noodles in hand, his eyes wary as he watched them. He made no move to run, but he had stopped eating, his expression blank except for wide, fearful eyes as he observed Taiyo.

Shoon tried to act as if nothing was weird, as if it was normal to have people in his apartment. Perhaps then Hikaru would relax, and Taiyo would stop glancing at Hikaru with wide, reproachful eyes, like he was diseased or something. While the water boiled Shoon finished up his noodles and began digging around in the cabinets and pantry for soap, figuring they could get Hikaru's clothes all cleaned up, and he could try to figure out a way to bring up the whole drugs situation. He knew that technically it was none of his business, and in all honesty it was in his best interests give Hikaru a pat on the back and send him back out into the November chill, but the thought put a nasty taste at the back of his throat.

That nasty taste turned into a sinking dread when he turned around from where he'd been rummaging under the sink to see Taiyo with all of his gangling limbs, at the stove, and Hikaru nowhere to be found. Shoon's heart was pounding, the dread seeping through his veins, his mind reeling. He hadn't heard any doors open, so Hikaru couldn't have left the apartment. The only parts of the apartment he couldn't see were the bedroom and bathroom. Perhaps the kid was just exploring. Or maybe he needed to pee. A more ominous thought presented itself, a little voice in the back of his mind, asking _are you sure you got it all? He may have more drugs stored somewhere on him. He could be shooting up now, killing himself on your watch._ That thought brought any semblance Shoon'd had of calm crashing down, and he rushed for the bedroom.

He was in the doorway when Hikaru bolted out, brushing past Shoon and making a beeline for the patch of floor where they had all slept, falling to his knees and tearing at the blankets, searching frantically, his movements jerky, his shoulders hunched with tension. He was muttering to himself, his voice high and anxious, one word repeated faster the longer he searched and came up empty handed. _No, no, no, no, no._ Shoon watched him for a moment, before going over to the small boy and falling to his knees next to him, putting a tentative hand on his shoulder.

"It's not here." He said, trying to force the tremor out of his voice. Hikaru turned to look at him sharply, his eyes wide and desperate and afraid. There was something animalistic and raw in that gaze, something lacking control, and it was hard for Shoon to stare back as he said "I got rid of it all." Hikaru froze, as if time had stopped for him in that moment, and Shoon knew that logically he was in the right, that he shouldn't have to justify himself to this kid, but he gave the shoulder he was touching a squeeze, saying as gently as possible "That shit will kill you." Hikaru jerked back, reeling away from him, and Shoon supposed that reaction was better than the punch in the face he'd been anticipating. But Hikaru was looking at him, his eyes frantic and something broken in his gaze, and Shoon tried to make his voice soothing, tried to be calm as he explained

"Hikaru, I want to help you. You could use a place to stay, right? You can here with me, and Taiyo-kun. I _want_ you to stay with me, with _us."_ Hikaru's eyes were losing their barely concealed panic, the look being replaced by something closer to confusion. "We could live here together, and be friends. But _that_―the drugs―it has to stop. I know it'll be hard, but we can help you." The more he talked, the more preposterous the idea sounded. Hikaru didn't know him, and Shoon―a scruffy homeless boy with a twisted, lacking moral code―was trying to force ideals down his throat.

Shoon waited with baited breath for Hikaru to scoff and fling his offer back in his face, but instead the boy just stared at him for a long moment, before he let out a small whine, and promptly vomited his noodles down his front. There was a moment frozen in time after the retching stopped, everyone shocked, frozen in their places. Even Hikaru seemed surprised, his eyes wide and watery, his whole body shaking like a leaf. But then Shoon snapped out if it. This boy needed help. He reached forward, pushing one hand under Hikaru's bangs. The kid was burning up, his skin tacky with sweat, and Shoon turned to where Taiyo was standing in the kitchen, the lanky boy just standing there holding his steaming styrofoam cup, staring at them with big eyes.

"Taiyo-kun, get some clothes from my bedroom please, clean ones for Hikaru." He paused, and when Taiyo didn't move he added "Now." The insistence seemed to do the trick, Taiyo setting his instant ramen down on the counter before rushing past them and disappearing into the bedroom. Shoon turned his attention back to Hikaru, trying to hold the panic rising in his chest at bay. He didn't have any medicine, or any way to take Hikaru to the doctor. Hell, he didn't even own a thermometer. He didn't know if this was a proper sickness, or another side effect from the drugs. Until he could shoplift a thermometer, and sneak into the local library, he was in the dark. He only allowed himself to dwell on all of the things he didn't know and couldn't fix for a moment, before taking a deep breath and turning his focus onto the things he could do.

"Hikaru-kun, let's get you cleaned up." He said, trying to keep his voice level, calm and reassuring. "Taiyo-kun is getting you new clothes, can you take these ones off? I'll wash them for you." Hikaru nodded, wiping at his mouth with the back of his left hand, before shrugging off his jacket and handing it to Shoon. It was soon followed by his sneakers, and then the rest of his clothes, until he was standing there in nothing but his underwear, shivering. The boy looked extremely small without any of his extra layers, his bony body thin and lacking in any sort of muscle definition. His right arm had small dark colored pockmarks, some scared over and some still scabs, running along the inside, and Shoon averted his eyes, doing his best not to stare. He balled up Hikaru's soiled clothes, carrying them to the sink, and he heard sounds of Taiyo returning, offering Hikaru new clothes and asking the smaller boy if he was okay.

If Hikaru responded, it wasn't verbal, and Shoon dumped the vomit covered clothes into the sink, washing his hands before retrieving a water bottle from the pack on the counter and returning to where Hikaru was shoving himself into the clothes Taiyo had brought him. They were a bit too big, and very ragged, holes in the knees of the jeans and the edges of the shirt frayed, but they did their job, and Shoon offered Hikaru the water bottle silently. The boy didn't take it until he had fully dressed and wrapped himself in the blanket they'd slept under the night before, the fever obviously giving him chills, the trembling in his limbs still strong, despite the layers.

Unsure and panicking, Shoon turned his attention to the soiled clothes in his sink, rolling up his sleeves and getting to work, attempting to clean them, hoping that perhaps by the time he had finished he would have some semblance of an idea on how he could tackle the situation. As he worked he heard Taiyo asking Hikaru questions, trying to find a way to help the smaller boy in some way, and he heard Hikaru snap harshly in response, something about _'idiot'_ and _'annoying',_ and Shoon winced a little, surprised by the sudden cruelty―Hikaru had been nothing but polite, if on edge. But, Shoon supposed, he really shouldn't be shocked. It wasn't like he'd known Hikaru for any real period of time. He didn't know what kind of a person Hikaru was.

By the time Shoon had finished scrubbing the clothes clean, he'd decided that he would just try and treat Hikaru like he'd treat anyone else that was sick. He'd heard people call drug addiction an illness before; usually housewives and _upstanding_ members of society, so he hadn't taken those words seriously, thinking they were trying to be politically correct, but maybe there was some truth to what they had said. He grabbed another bottle of water out of his quickly diminishing pack, and went to the door, announcing

"I'm going to go and get some medicine, will you too be okay for a little while?" The two other boys had fallen silent, Taiyo just watching Hikaru silently as small whimpering noises of misery fell from between Hikaru's pursed lips. Hikaru didn't move to get away from the heater, but he kept shifting, as if he couldn't get comfortable. But they both nodded, and Shoon nodded back, promising to hurry before stepping out into the morning sun. He wasn't gone long; there was a conbini a few blocks away run by an older man that needed cataract surgery, and it was easy to slip in and grab everything he could possibly need without being seen.

When he got back home he found Taiyo sitting shoulder to shoulder with Hikaru, his cup of instant noodles discarded on the floor next to them, one of those monthly serialized shounen manga magazines, the spine of which was probably thicker than his tiny wrist, on his knees. He was talking, pointing to the magazine and making exclamations, a small goofy grin on his face, before flipping a dog eared page. The boys both looked up at him when he came in, and Shoon walked over, asking

"How'd everything go?" Hikaru didn't respond to the question, Taiyo glancing at Hikaru and shrugging. "You can read?" Shoon was surprised. He could read, some. Just the easy characters, and he knew that if he'd been alone since he could remember―the way Taiyo seemed to have been―he probably couldn't have been able to read anything.

"No." Hikaru muttered, and the word would have seemed more malicious, if he wasn't giving Taiyo a tiny not-quite smile, one side of his mouth curled up in an affectionate manner. Taiyo sputtered a bit, saying something about liking the pictures, as Shoon took Hikaru's temperature.

"I can read some." Shoon told them. "I'll read it to you if you want." To his surprise both boys responded enthusiastically, and after taking Hikaru's temperature―it was a concerning thirty-eight point six degrees―medicating him with an over the counter fever reducer, and getting him another bottle of water, and a bucket in case he vomited again, Shoon sat down in between the boys, pulling the magazine into his lap. They curled in close, and Taiyo leaned over the comic, flipping to the beginning of the story he'd been showing Hikaru, before settling in expectantly. Shoon read to them most of the day. It was hard, he didn't know lots of the characters, and sometimes what he could decipher didn't make much sense.

Hikaru was rather moody, one second chuckling at something that had happened in the manga, and the next letting out a short tempered growl. His nose was runny, and his fever wasn't helped much by the medicine Shoon had bought―he'd ended up throwing most of it back up―and he was still shaking, just overall miserable. When Shoon had asked what would make him feel better, Hikaru had treated him to a stare, effectively shutting him up. That evening Shoon had taken Taiyo out, and they'd stolen canned soup for dinner―because soup was another sick people thing―but Hikaru ended up regurgitating his meal shortly after he'd eaten it, and Shoon hoped that he'd managed to at least absorb some of the nutrients before it all had come back up.


	3. Chapter 3

They all fell asleep curled up together in a pile on the floor by the heater that night. But when Shoon woke up Hikaru wasn't bundled up next to him under their ratty blanket, and he panicked, bolting up and calling out

"Hikaru-kun!"

"What?" A voice called weakly from the other room, and Shoon darted into the bedroom, taking one sweeping glance before striding to the other side of the space and into the bathroom. There, on the floor by the toilet was Hikaru. He was trembling, his head resting on the edge of the toilet bowl, sopping with sweat. He had trails of snot running down his nose. He looked broken; he looked close to death, and it was anxiety inducing; it made Shoon want to look away. Shoon instead braced himself and crouched down next to the smaller boy, rubbing his back like he'd seen mothers do with their children. Hikaru flinched at the touch, but then he leaned into it, his body weight pressed up against Shoon's side, and Shoon resolved that by the end of the day he was going to have figured out what sort of drug Hikaru had been shooting up―and find out how to help him.

That day, after a freezing, brisk shower, Shoon left Taiyo in charge of Hikaru and set out to get answers to his questions. He started by sneaking into the nearest elementary school library, but after a few hours of searching he deemed the place worthless and instead he went over to the high school, where he struck pay dirt when he stumbled upon a section of the library dedicated to educational pamphlets. He couldn't really read them, but―judging on the pictures―they had to have the information he was looking for. He took all of them, even the ones that he didn't think he'd need, stuffing his pockets before snatching a dictionary and running, startled sounding students yelling after him.

The rest of the day was spent deciphering the pamphlets. It was a long and painstaking process, one spent inside a train station, Shoon sheltering there for the light and warmth the structure provided. He learned all about many kinds of illegal drugs, some much more harrowing sounding than others, until he found the one that seemed to match Hikaru's symptoms; heroin. It was, to his distress, one of the more scary sounding drugs, but it wasn't the worst one he'd read about, and it was a relief to be able to put a name to the stuff. He read the little pamphlet cover to cover with the help of his dictionary, and then he stole a pen from a passerby's notebook, and a napkin from the garbage, and he took notes.

At this point Hikaru wasn't going to die―probably―much to his relief. At least, he wasn't as long as he didn't take too much of the stuff. The best thing Shoon could do was keep him off of the drugs, and wait for Hikaru to start to feel better. The pamphlet listed all of Hikaru's symptoms and then some on one of the flaps, in a column labeled _withdrawl,_ another word Shoon had never seen before. And it was slightly frustrating, because the paper's glossy surface didn't say what could make the addicted person feel better. But Shoon did manage to discern that the _withdrawl_ should end, once all of the drugs were out of Hikaru's system. Even after the withdrawl symptoms were over however, one last thing remained, one thing that seemed to be the hardest obstacle to overcome; cravings. Hikaru was going to want the drug for a long time. He was going to want it a lot, and it was going to be hard for him to not have it. The pamphlet advised rehab, or medical involvement, but those words made Shoon's hair stand on end. He'd decided to take Hikaru in. He was going to help the smaller boy.

His confidence crashed to the floor when upon returning to the apartment that evening, frozen dinners under his arm, he found the place a mess, both Hikaru and Taiyo gone. His mind was racing. What could have happened? Had someone broken in? Had they been robbed? Did the other boys run away, or had they been taken? Had they been killed? He called out, dropping everything at the door and running through the tiny apartment, but no one answered. He was alone. There were signs of a struggle, but nothing had been stolen. The space heater―probably the most valuable thing in the apartment―was sitting in the middle of the front room, knocked on it's side, the cord still plugged into the wall. So then where were Hikaru and Taiyo?

He whirled back out into the growing darkness, a small bubble of terror in his chest, and he set off, determined to find them. He dug into his pants pocket, fishing for a moment before feeling the familiar smooth edge of his pocket knife, the protection it offered in it's sharp blade a comfort, and he took it out as he flitted through the streets, searching desperately for their familiar faces in the darkness. He found Taiyo first, the tall young boy peering around a corner, his eyes wide, face pale. He wasn't wearing a coat, and he was shivering in the November cold, his hands up by his mouth in an attempt to keep them warm. Relief hit Shoon like a wall, but it was chased by confusion when he ran over, and found Taiyo alone.

"Taiyo-kun! Are you hurt? Where's Hikaru?" Taiyo looked over at him in surprise, his eyes wide and almost fearful, and he shook his head, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he said

"I-I'm fine...it's Hikaru he―" He took a deep breath, and he looked at Shoon as if he was a dog that was afraid of being beaten. "―he said he couldn't do...do _it_ anymore." The last word came out in a squeak, and it was followed by a stuttered, nervous mess of words that Shoon came to think meant something along the lines of _'I tried to stop him'_. Understanding washed over Shoon as he listened to Taiyo's convoluted, nervous explanations. Hikaru had gone out looking for more drugs―_heroin,_ Shoon reminded himself―and by the sound of things Taiyo had tried to stop him; physically. He'd failed, and now he was doing the same thing Shoon was doing; looking for Hikaru. But he was visibly scared, and he was cold, his lips a pale purplish hue, his body wracking with shivers.

Shoon sent him back to the apartment, assuring him that he would get Hikaru back, and Taiyo seemed reassured by his words, but Shoon felt a nauseating panic growing in his stomach. He had to find Hikaru, had to get to him before the smaller boy found what he was looking for. He looked for over an hour, as night fell and the moon rose high in the sky. The longer it took the more uneasy he became. He'd been taught that it wasn't safe for children to be out late by themselves, not in the neighborhood he lived in, if you could call dilapidated and mostly abandoned buildings a neighborhood. He kept to his apartment at night to keep away from the terrors that night brought with it, stabbings and junkies and violence. Getting needlessly involved was just asking for trouble.

It was late, and very dark when finally he turned a corner to see two people in an alley. One of them was undoubtedly an adult, but he was thin, aged beyond his years, with mottled skin and ratty clothes. The other was―to Shoon's relief―Hikaru. They were huddled together, Hikaru's back turned away from him, and Shoon ran up, yelling as he got close enough to see a small plastic bag in the adult's hand, holding in it a white powdery substance just like the kind Shoon had found on Hikaru a few days previous. His shout startled them, and they both jumped, Hikaru spinning around as Shoon flicked his pocket knife open, lunging at the man with the drugs and slamming into him full force, reeling his arm back and slicing the blade of his knife down the man's face as he said

"Stay the fuck away from him." The force with which he knocked into the man knocked him off of his feet, Shoon ending up crouching over the dealer, the man shoving at him with his arms, yelping and trying to get him off. It was a momentary struggle, limbs everywhere, but then Shoon managed to get his blade dangerously close to one of the guy's eyes, and he froze, the blade hovering millimeters away from him, as fear dragged down his addiction riddled face. "You listen to me." Shoon muttered. "If I find out you gave him anything―" He gestured to where Hikaru was standing about a meter away, his eyes wide, mouth agape. "―or if you _ever_ give him anything I will find you, and you will end up actually missing an eye, understand?" The man didn't say anything, just giving him the slightest of nods, and Shoon got to his feet, not watching as the man scrambled away. Instead he turned to Hikaru, putting his knife away and reaching out to him.

"Are you okay?" He asked, trying to take Hikaru's form in, worried that he was hurt or high. Hikaru blinked up at him, eyes already beginning to fill with tears, and there was some comfort for Shoon in that gaze. He was definitely sober. He hadn't managed to get anything into his system. Relieved, Shoon leaned in, pulling Hikaru in for a tight hug, and Hikaru froze up, obviously not comfortable with the physical affection, but then he hissed as if in pain, and Shoon jumped back at once, eyeing him up and down, looking for any indication of injury. "You're hurt? Where?!" Hikaru shrugged.

"It's my insides." He explained. "They hurt. My bones and stuff." His voice was watery, and he burst into tears, sniveling as Shoon took one of his hands and said

"Let's go home, we'll get you all patched up. I know it sucks right now, but it'll get better, I promise." He paused, looking over his shoulder in the direction that the drug dealer had run off. "I'm going to get you through this, Hikaru-kun." He started leading Hikaru back in the direction of the apartment, and after a few moments Hikaru said, through the tears

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I'm sorry. I―" There was a small hic, and the apologies turned into pleading. "Just let me go. Leave me, let me go please. I'm sorry, just let me―" Shoon's grip tightened on Hikaru's hand automatically, and he shook his head.

"I'm not going to let you kill yourself, you're better than that. C'mon." His words only cowed Hikaru into silence for a few minutes, the apologies and pleading starting back up again, but Shoon didn't budge, and Hikaru didn't try to get away. His palm was sweaty despite the cold air, despite the snow that started to fall as they made their way home in the dark, and Shoon realized that too probably had something to do with the withdrawal. He knew Hikaru had to be freezing. They burst through the apartment door, and it was immediately apparent that Taiyo had tried to clean up some of the destruction he and Hikaru had caused earlier that day, and when Shoon returned with Hikaru Taiyo tripped over his own feet in his haste to greet them.

Despite that, when he got to Hikaru Taiyo froze, visibly wary of the smaller boy. There was an awkward moment, Hikaru and Taiyo just standing there in the semi-darkness, staring at each other, before Taiyo glanced away, his face red, and he stuttered out

"I-I made some ramen." Shoon nodded in appreciation, his stomach hallow with hunger, Taiyo scuttled back into the kitchen to get their food while Shoon brought Hikaru over to the heater, setting him down and grabbing the rope from where it had been forgotten in a corner on the floor, shoving it into his pants pocket. Taiyo handed him a styrofoam cup and the three of them sat around the heater eating in silence, all of them physically and emotionally drained from the events of the day, Hikaru still sniveling on occasion. Hikaru didn't eat much, and what little he did eat he didn't keep down for long. He ended up rushing to the bathroom, and he made it into the general vicinity of the toilet before spilling the contents of his stomach down the side of the bowl and onto the tile floor.

After getting Hikaru―and the bathroom floor―all cleaned up they bundled up in blankets and laid down around the heater, to go to sleep. That night was the worst one yet, and while not trusting Hikaru to stay Shoon had tied them together―the same way Taiyo had done on their first night as a trio―it wasn't really necessary. Hikaru was restless, constantly shifting and whining as if he was uncomfortable and in some sort of pain. Shoon was up most of the night with Hikaru, the smaller boy tossing and turning, covered in sweat, he was sickly pale in the darkness of night, trembling uncontrollably, hot tears running down his face. It was hard to bear witness to, and Shoon tried to be comforting, but Hikaru flinched away from most physical contact. The night was long and tedious, and Shoon had to remind himself repeatedly that this was all symptoms of the withdrawal, this was just because of the drugs, and it would go away, but nothing would help but time.

That night was one of the worst nights of Shoon's short life, but the next one was a little better, and the one after that even more so, and he knew that the worst of it had passed. It was a huge relief, Shoon could feel the stress and anxiety of the past few days melting off of him, and the release was almost exhausting in its weight. It was about a week before Shoon woke up late one morning to find Hikaru gone again. The loss made him feel like the bottom had dropped out of his stomach, and he bolted up, frantically searching the apartment before dashing out into the street, the early December cold biting at his nose and fingertips, chilling him to his bones as he ran, yelling for Hikaru, desperate and afraid. He'd thought things were going so well.

He found Hikaru in the late afternoon, curled into the shadow of an abandoned building, his eyes glazed over, fingers still gripping an empty syringe, looking much like he had when Shoon had first found him. It was both relieving and disheartening. Hikaru had relapsed; everything they'd worked toward had been trashed. But at least he was still alive. And so Shoon scooped him up, and carried him home, determined not to give up on the kid. Because now, for the first time in his pointlessly hard life, he had a reason to fight, to persevere and survive. For the first time ever he was needed, and he wasn't going to let that go.


	4. Chapter 4

And so the boys started back at square one, Hikaru steadily getting more miserable, his symptoms peaking two days or so after he'd relapsed, before they started petering off around the three or four day mark. He didn't manage to keep much of any food or medicine down the first few days, and he was pale and sweaty, going through mood swings, depression and paranoia seeming to hit him in waves. But amidst the sea of bad, there were little things―the way he'd say thank you when Shoon brought him food or wrapped him in a blanket, or the way he'd laugh when Taiyo did or said something foolish―glimpses of the boy he could be, the person he was under the pain and suffering. Under the addiction.

Taiyo was a great help, Shoon found. The boy didn't know how to cook, and wasn't much of one for cleaning, but he was a good companion. He was optimistic and lighthearted, and he didn't seem bothered by Hikaru's negative grumbling, taking any venting or teasing in stride, letting any harsh words just roll off with a smile. It was impressive, Shoon knowing that he had too much pride to be able to accept the snarky, occasionally mean spirited comments Hikaru threw out on his bad days, and not let them bother him. He didn't really understand how Taiyo did it, but he was glad that he did.

That time Hikaru lasted three weeks before relapsing again, and it wasn’t until this second relapse that Shoon realized that this whole addiction thing wasn’t going to be an easy fix. It was going to be hard, and long, and one night as he listened to Hikaru vomiting in the toilet for the third time within the past few hours he felt a seed of doubt planting itself in the back of his mind. Would Hikaru be able to overcome this? Was it worth it to even try to get the kid rehabilitated? The pessimistic train of thought made his stomach turn, but it kept bothering him, poking and prodding and prickling under his skin as the days went by, and Hikaru suffered through his cravings.

Hikaru lasted a little over a month this time, before he disappeared one morning in mid-January, Shoon coming out of the bathroom to find Taiyo still asleep on the floor, and Hikaru nowhere to be found. He felt a now to familiar sinking dread in the pit of his stomach, the doubt in his mind flaring up as he woke Taiyo up and they went out into the snow. Hikaru looked even closer to death than ever before this time, pale, lips purple from the cold. He was unresponsive, but he was still breathing, and Taiyo shrieked hysterically at the sight of him, Shoon trying to repress the panic and guilt in his chest as he scooped Hikaru up; only able to shrug when Taiyo asked through tears if Hikaru was going to die.

Hikaru didn’t die; he came to a few hours later, covered in sweat and barely able to move, floundering about and whimpering and crying, and Taiyo let out harsh noises of relief, unable to do anything but cry, emotion having hit his little body so hard. It wouldn’t be until a few days later, in the night, after Taiyo was already asleep, that out of the darkness Shoon would hear Hikaru’s voice, tentative and abashed, but genuine all the same, say

“Thank you for...saving me. I felt like I was really gonna die that time.” Shoon froze, not sure what to say, and after a few quiet moments, Hikaru continued. “I...I want to get better. I don’t want to be like this. I don’t want to be sick like this.” Those words, the little quiet voice in the darkness, washed away all doubt Shoon had about if he was doing the right thing, and he reached out, finding Hikaru’s hand in the dark and giving it a squeeze.

“You’ll be better one day. You can do it, Hikaru.”

“I won’t do it ever again!” Hikaru declared, voice fierce with determination. Shoon felt a smile bloom on his lips, and he nodded.

“Okay.” Hikaru would last nine weeks before he shot up again. And then it was twelve weeks, and then fifteen, and each time it was_‘the last time’_ and each time it was heartbreaking, and scary. But as the relapses grew more and more infrequent, and there were more good days, Hikaru’s true character began to show through. He was extremely smart, witty and sharp, and he was hilarious, able to tell stories and make Shoon and Taiyo laugh in a way unlike anyone Shoon had ever met. When he was off of the drugs, when Hikaru was good it was amazing. Hikaru was bursting with life, eager to learn, to grow, and to contribute to their little group.

Hikaru grew to be an amazing pickpocket, and as the relapses happened less and less Shoon found that instead of panicking whenever Hikaru wasn’t home, he’d just wait, trusting the other boy more and more to be out alone. Hikaru would come back before dark, pockets usually laden with wallets and food and sometimes books for Shoon to read he’d stolen from unsuspecting adults or businesses with poor security. Time flew by, and the three of them grew to be extremely close, Shoon fiercely fond of both Hikaru and Taiyo, and the few times any of them were picked on he ensured with his fists and his knife that they were to be taken seriously, and―more importantly―left alone.

It was over a year and a half after Shoon had found Hikaru when one August night Hikaru didn’t make it home before the sun had set, Shoon feeling a nagging worry tugging on his thoughts. He had been impatient, wanting to show Taiyo and Hikaru the old polaroid camera he’d found out on the street earlier that day, eager to test it to see if it would work. That impatience had turned to anxiety as the sun had fallen behind the roof of the neighboring buildings. He tried to tell himself it was fine, tried to listen to Taiyo’s story about just how he’d ended up accidentally dizzy in the middle of the supermarket somehow, but when another hour had gone by and Hikaru still wasn’t back, he couldn’t ignore the feeling in his gut any longer, standing up and going to where they’d taped up a calendar by the door, checking.

Hikaru had started keeping track of how long he’d stayed sober, writing the number of days it had been every day on the calendar, starting back at one after a relapse. He’d started doing it about a year ago, and it had proven to be a good tool; physical evidence that he was winning, beating the addiction. It had been so long since a relapse Shoon had almost forgotten what the gut wrenching, nauseating dread felt like, and he gave the glossy calendar page a long look, searing the number into his brain. One hundred and seventy-two. One hundred seventy-two days since Hikaru had disappeared, and been found in an alley somewhere all drugged up, a fresh scar on his arm. Shoon had been starting to hope it would never happen again, but perhaps he’d been too optimistic. Hikaru had never gone this long without shooting up before.

“Taiyo I’m going to go look for Hika―” Shoon was cut off by the sound of someone fiddling with the doorknob, and they both immediately diverted all of their attention to the noise, wary. Shoon grabbed the pocket knife out of his ratty jeans, flicking it open before leaning forward and pulling the door open just a hair. He was met with one of Hikaru’s eyes peering back at him wide, Hikaru saying

“Let me in! I can’t get it, he’s kinda―” Relief hit Shoon so hard that he didn’t register what Hikaru had said until he pulled the door open and saw that Hikaru’s arms were full, a _boy_ in them bridal style, wearing baggy jeans and a loose t-shirt, his thin arms wrapped around Hikaru’s neck, head resting on Hikaru’s shoulder, tear tracks on his cheeks illuminated in the light of the bare bulb that hung from their ceiling from a thin black cord. Hikaru crossed the threshold, and instead of putting the boy down he slowly―gently―sat, pulling the boy into his lap. Bewildered but glad that Hikaru was _back_ and _safe,_ Shoon sat down on the floor facing them, flicking his pocket knife shut and putting it away, giving Hikaru a once over with his eyes before turning to the kid in Hikaru’s lap and asking

“What’s your name?” The boy looked wide-eyed up at Hikaru, still sniveling a bit, his little eyes red from crying. Hikaru nodded, reassuring the kid and wrapping his arms around the boy’s shoulders loosely.

“Yabu. Yabu Kota.” Taiyo crawled over on his hands and knees to where they were all sitting, plopping down in between Shoon and Hikaru, glancing back and forth between Shoon’s face and this Yabu boy, as if trying to figure out how he was supposed to be reacting to this newcomer. Hikaru too was looking at Shoon with uncertain eyes, and it was a little strange, this feeling that they were both looking to him, silently looking for direction on how to proceed.

“What happened?” He asked, this question directed at Hikaru. The smaller boy immediately launched into an explanation.

“I was out pickpocketing, like usual, and I was just about to come home, but I’d gone out past the bridge―which I know is really far, and...sorry―and I was a little bit lost. But I was taking a shortcut through this back alley, and he was there, out with the bins, just sitting there on the street crying. And he can’t walk, and his aunt can’t keep him anymore. He said she doesn’t want him anymore, and he needs help.” The longer HIkaru talked the faster the words flowed from his lips, frantic, with determination in his voice. And then he took a deep breath, as if preparing for something, before saying “I want to keep him.”

There was a lot of information written in between the lines of Hikaru’s words, but the first thing Shoon decided to address was _’he can’t walk’,_ leaning closer as Yabu blinked up at him from his place in Hikaru’s lap, and asking

“What happened to you? Where are you hurt?” The boy was still sniveling a little, and he wiped at his face with one hand, voice watery as he said

“It’s my ankle.” He pointed to his left leg, Shoon scooting in, reaching out and rolling the boy’s pant leg up, to see that the joint was swollen, straining the mouth of his shoe, and Shoon began to unlace it, turning to Taiyo and saying

“The first aid kit is in the bedroom, by the books.” Taiyo nodded, scrambling to his feet rather clumsily, before disappearing into the other room. As Shoon worked the shoe off, Yabu continued talking.

“I was running away, and I tripped over the trashcans and hurt it.”

"Running away?” Shoon asked, Yabu nodding.

“My aunt, she said she couldn’t keep me anymore. She never liked kids.”

“Don’t you have any siblings or parents?” Shoon asked. He knew most people had a family somewhere. The only kid he knew that didn’t―aside from himself―was Taiyo. Even Hikaru had a family, the boy telling him once that his parents had been the ones that had introduced him to heroin in the first place. Yabu just shrugged.

“Mom and Dad are dead, and my brother and sister and I were all split up. I don’t know where they are.”

“Shoon, what’s this?” Taiyo’s voice called from the bedroom doorway, and Shoon looked up to see the lanky kid holding in his hands the polaroid camera he’d found earlier that day, and he blinked in surprise, before gesturing for Taiyo to give it to him.

“A camera, I found it behind some apartments earlier today. It was going to be a surprise.” He conceded, Taiyo flushing with embarrassment immediately. “Can you get that first aid kit now?” Shoon asked, eyebrows raised, and Taiyo nodded, rushing back into the bedroom. Momentarily distracted by the gadget, Shoon held it up to his face, finding Yabu and Hikaru’s bodies in the lense, and saying “Let’s see if this works.” before snapping a picture, the camera spitting out a rectangular piece of film. Moments later Taiyo was back with the small plastic box Shoon had sent him to get, and he immediately discarded the camera and film on the floor, opening up the first aid kit and getting to work wrapping Yabu’s swollen ankle. Hikaru grumbled a bit about being hungry, and Taiyo got to work boiling some water for instant ramen, as Hikaru had missed dinner, and the plastic cups were easy to keep a hoard of.

Yabu’s ankle was wrapped, and the two boys were fed, Hikaru exclaiming excitedly that the camera did work, pointing to the camera and the film on the floor. What had looked like a blank piece of film minutes earlier, now had an image on it, Hikaru’s face smiling up at them all from the little rectangle, Yabu’s small body in his lap. The realization that the camera worked was an exciting one, and they all passed the picture around, amazed. Yabu stayed mostly silent, the little boy sitting in close proximity to Hikaru, their knees touching as they ate. It wasn’t until they had both finished their food that Hikaru asked, more insistent this time

“So, can Yabu stay with us?” His voice was ringing with an enthusiasm unlike any Shoon had ever heard from him, but it wasn’t Shoon’s decision to make.

“What do you want, Yabu-kun? You’re welcome to stay with us, but you don’t have to. You could try to go home.” Shoon wasn’t really sure how they would take care of one more kid, much less one that couldn’t walk―at least for a while―but when Yabu declared that he wanted to stay, the smile on Hikaru’s face made the offer worth it. That night Taiyo let Yabu have the futon he usually slept on, instead curling up with Shoon on his. They’d have to make some adjustments to accommodate for one more person living in their soon-to-be-cramped single bedroom apartment, but perhaps this was a turning point for them. For Hikaru. Maybe now they were in the clear.

The next few months were some of the best Shoon had ever had. Yabu’s ankle healed up within two weeks, and they found that the new boy fit in seamlessly amongst their group. He had an inexplicable charisma, something about him just making him likeable, and―while he wasn’t as devious as Hikaru, as optimistic as Taiyo, or as physically strong as Shoon―he, they came to realize, had had the most schooling out of all of them. This quickly lead to them all asking him to read to them, Shoon in particular going out of his way to ask for help with characters and spellings, wanting to learn. And so Yabu taught them how to read, and they in return taught him how to survive.

Everyone was healthy, all of them growing, bigger and taller and stronger, and Hikaru seemed to be truly feeling better. Shoon found himself wondering on occasion, as they sat around their living room on the floor, talking and joking over their dinner as the light of the setting sun filtered through the grimy window, if this was what family was like. It was more than Shoon had ever dreamed of. It was fantastic, and he didn’t think he could imagine a happiness better than this. The months rolled by, the August heat turning into a proper autumn chill, and then soon after December brought with it Hikaru’s birthday, and the first snow.


	5. Chapter 5

It was only a few days before Christmas―Shoon had never really been one to pay attention to Christmas before now, but the other boys all were very excited about the holiday―when one night Yabu didn’t come home before dark. He’d never been out late before, the small boy always claiming to be afraid of the dark, and to top it all off a snow storm had blown in from the south a few hours before nightfall. Everyone was upset, worried and tense, and while Taiyo skittered around, unable to keep still, _literally_ wringing his hands, Hikaru had retreated within himself, silently curling up, his eyes fixed on the door. Shoon took in his companions faces, their expressions of anxiety and stress, and he got up, grabbing their shared coat and slinging it on as he said

“I’m going to go look for him, he probably got lost somewhere.” Both Taiyo and Hikaru immediately got to their feet.

“We can help!” Taiyo offered, but Shoon shook his head, opening the front door. Cold air burst in, snowflakes pushing their way into the warmth in the violent gust, and he had to raise his voice as he said

“It’s too cold! We don’t have any more coats! Just stay here; I’ll be back soon!” He turned away, scrunching up his face against the snow, the wind already biting at his nose and ears, and it took effort to get the door shut behind him, before he went out, stomping through the snow. It was hard to see, the storm obliterating anything more than a meter away from his sight, and he found himself just walking slowly through the streets and yelling, calling out for Yabu, hoping that perhaps the kid would hear him. The night wore on, and he was considering turning back, hoping that Yabu had made it home already, when he heard, faint against the sound of the wind battering his eardrums

“Mayo?” It was a nickname, one the boys had given him during a particularly giddy dinner, and he wasn’t even sure he’d heard right, yelling out as loud as he could

“YABU!”

“Mayo!” It was louder that time, and Shoon ran toward the noise yelling again, and it was a few moments later that he caught sight of the boy, Yabu cowering in the doorway of an old restaurant, his nose red from the cold, hair a tangled mess swirling in front of his face. When he saw him, Yabu waved, running out to meet Shoon halfway, and he barreled into him, nearly knocking him down into the street as he buried himself in Shoon’s arms, tears immediately beginning to fall, his little body trembling as he cried.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” Shoon murmured, relishing the warmth of Yabu’s little body against his own for a moment, before taking the coat off and wrapping it around the younger boy’s shoulders. “Everyone’s worried about you.” He said, taking Yabu’s hand. “Let's go home.” The way back to the apartment was much faster than the way out, the two of them trudging through the storm at a slow jog, the fastest they could manage in the wind and the snow. It was a relief to see their front door, and they burst through it, tumbling into the light and the heat with a feeling of success. That feeling was quickly sapped out of Shoon when Taiyo opened his mouth.

“Oh my god, Yabuchii! Thank goodness. Did you see Hikaru?”

“Hikaru? What? He’s supposed to be here with you.” Shoon felt anger flare up in his chest as Taiyo shook his head, the younger boy informing them

“He left to look for Yabu too. I couldn’t make him stay.”

“Idiot!” Shoon snapped; whirling right back out the door, yelling behind him “You brats had better not go anywhere!” before running out into the night. He searched for what felt like hours, his voice going hoarse, teeth chattering, hands and nose numb from the cold. He found himself wishing he’d behaved a bit more rationally; he shouldn’t have yelled at Taiyo, and―if he’d stopped to think for a few seconds―he could have gotten the coat. As it was he returned home alone, stomach growling in hunger, extremities numb from the cold. Yabu and Taiyo were up waiting for him, the both of them frantic messes as they swaddled him in blankets and shoved a cup of instant ramen in his hand. Apologies were murmured from everyone, and it was hard, admitting that he couldn’t go back out tonight, that they’d just have to wait and hope that Hikaru came back on his own.

It was even harder waking up the following morning to find that he hadn’t returned in the night. The three of them spent the whole day out looking for him, taking turns with the coat and searching in a pack, Shoon not eager to let anyone wander off on their own. He’d expected Hikaru to be back by now, expected Hikaru to come back after the storm had passed, and he couldn’t understand why Hikaru wouldn’t be back, feeling helpless when Yabu asked if he had any idea as to where Hikaru could be, shaking his head. It was then however that Taiyo said

“We haven’t checked...his old spots.” Shoon’s eyes widened, a sinking feeling in his gut as he realized what Taiyo was suggesting. Hikaru hadn’t shot up in almost a year, and Shoon had honestly convinced himself that _that_ chapter of their lives―the one where they couldn’t trust Hikaru to be alone, the one in which they were all too used to cleaning vomit out of shoes and off of the bathroom floor, the one where they lived in fear of finding Hikaru in an alley somewhere, overdosed and lying dead in a pool of his own bodily fluids―was over. His stomach churned, a shiver running down his spine as he considered it, a lump forming in his throat as Yabu asked, excited, completely unaware of the grim weight Taiyo’s words held

“Old spots? Let’s go! You think you might know where he could be?” Taiyo glanced at Shoon over Yabu’s head, obviously uncertain, but Shoon nodded.

“Let’s go. Stick close to me.” He decided, Taiyo paling a bit, Yabu asking

“Why?”

“Where we’re going, it’s not very safe.” He said, offering Yabu his hand, taking his pocket knife out with his other, and leading the way to the decrepit buildings and filthy back alleys that seemed to breed addiction, his heart in his throat. They searched for over an hour, checking the all of the back alleys they’d found Hikaru in the past, eliminating them one by one, and as they turned each corner, and found it empty, there was a strong wave of relief in Shoon’s stomach, followed by an equally strong wall of fear. Because while he didn’t want to find Hikaru here, he was starting to panic properly about losing him. It had been nearly a full twenty-four hours since he’d gone missing, and still...nothing.

Yet, it was only a few streets off of the beaten path, and one wrong turn, before up ahead they caught sight of a familiar shoe, a foot peeking out from around a corner a few streets down, and Shoon felt his chest constrict in dread, jogging over, something ugly enveloping him when he rounded the corner to see the rest of the boy. It was Hikaru, sprawled out in the snow, his little body pressed up against the brick of the building’s exterior wall, his body sopping in sweat, vomit pooled by his head, congealed and half frozen in the snow. He had trails of snot running from his nostrils, and while usually when he was high his face would flush, cheeks a ruddy pink, this time he was pale, looking dead to the world.

He looked worse than he ever had, and Shoon could feel something in his chest breaking as he leaned down, shaking Hikaru’s body and getting nothing in response. Desperate, terrified, he leaned in closer, feeling for a pulse, a breath, something to indicate that Hikaru was still alive. It was then, once he had a cold hand on Hikaru’s bare neck that he realized that the smaller boy was trembling, his whole body quivering, his skin hot and wet to the touch, feverish, and Shoon felt weak with relief for a moment, his arms going limp by his sides as he glanced over at Taiyo and Yabu.

“He’s alive.” Shoon declared, Taiyo looking upset but relieved, while Yabu was staring wide eyed at Hikaru, terror written on his little face, his eyes already brimming with tears.

“What’s wrong with him?” Yabu asked, pressing himself into Taiyo’s side as he spoke, his voice small. Shoon turned back to Hikaru’s body, scooping him up into his arms as he heard Taiyo attempt a stuttered explanation, Shoon leading the way as the four of them returned home. Taiyo got the door, Yabu just trailing behind, eyes wide as Shoon brought Hikaru straight to the heater, Taiyo disappearing into their bedroom, returning with clean clothes and the bucket they kept under the bathroom sink. Hikaru was properly out of it, not reacting at all as they silently stripped him down, Taiyo getting an old shirt that they had all grown out of and wetting it in the kitchen sink, trying to clean Hikaru’s face and hair up as best he could, while Shoon worked his legs into new pants.

They worked to get him as warm and clean as they could, and occasionally one of Hikaru’s legs would twitch, and his eyelids would flutter a bit, his lips parting, the odd rope of drool dribbling out. He never seemed properly conscious however, and Shoon pulled him close, laying on the floor with him and wrapping his arms around Hikaru’s chest, feeling the younger boy’s heart, a bit slower than perhaps it should be, but still beating, under his fingertips. It was comforting, and he wrapped himself around Hikaru, instructing Taiyo to tie their ankles together, the words making his heart grow heavy, Yabu watching in horror as Taiyo did as he was told. He’d thought Hikaru could be left alone. He’d been wrong, and now they were all suffering because of it.

He laid there, Hikaru’s head tucked under his chin, listening as the other boys put themselves to bed, not wanting to look at them and see their faces, knowing they were feeling upset, scared and alone. He wished he were older, he thought, as he lay there. If he were older he’d know what to do. He could help them. As it was he was just as helpless as the others, and he could only hope that Hikaru would make it through the night. He did his best to stay up, wanting to make sure he could be there for Hikaru. He did doze off a few times, however, and it was during one of those times that Hikaru seemed to come to himself, Shoon being brought to full awareness by the rope tied to his ankle straining.

He was alert at once, Hikaru flailing his limbs, a whine pitting itself in the back of his throat. Shoon released his arms from around Hikaru’s chest, asking tentatively if he was okay. Hikaru didn’t respond, his fingers latching on to the edge of the bucket, dragging it over and reaching inside, as if expecting something to be there, before throwing it aside, the plastic hitting the wall with a clatter, the noise waking Taiyo and Yabu. Hikaru tried to roll away from Shoon, but they were still tied together, and he kicked at Shoon’s legs with his free foot, as if expecting that to free him. Shoon cursed in surprise, yelping

“Hikaru! Hikaru, what do you want?” There was the sound of feet pattering across the floor, and Yabu flicked the light on, the sudden brightness making Shoon scrunch his eyes up in protest, blinking a few times before feeling Hikaru’s fingers tugging haplessly at the rope tying them together, and finally getting a good look at his face. Hikaru was looking at him with eyes that were slightly unfocused, his head bobbing a bit, fingers shaking too badly to really be able to do much, and Shoon realized that he hadn’t come down yet. He was still high. Hikaru had never been high for this long before, and the logical part of his brain wondered for a moment if he’d been given something stronger, or more pure, than he used to get, but the thought was fleeting.

He put a hand on Hikaru’s shoulder, trying to calm him, rubbing up and down the younger boy’s arm with his palm soothingly. It didn't seem to do much, but Hikaru’s fingers stilled on the rope binding their ankles together, and he muttered, the word broken and so quiet that Shoon, despite his close position, could barely make it out.

“Water.”

“Taiyo, get him some water. Yabu—” Shoon looked over to where Yabu was still standing by the lightswitch, his hair a mess from sleeping on it, silent tears running down his cheeks as he looked at Hikaru. At Shoon’s words however, he dragged his gaze to Shoon’s face instead, and Shoon gestured to the bucket Hikaru had thrown across their little apartment. “—if you could bring that to Hika; he’ll probably need it.” Hikaru himself didn't seem to be listening to Shoon’s words, his fingers resuming their tugging on the rope tied around his ankle, fervently pulling on the threads, and he seemed to have lapsed into a subconscious state, no proper thought behind his actions any longer, just struggle for the sake of it. Because he didn't know what else to do. Because he was afraid.

Taiyo brought Hikaru a cup, and Yabu—tentatively—brought the bucket, and he managed to actually keep the water down. When they tried to give him food however, about an hour later, Hikaru ended up snatching the bucket from the floor, retching harshly and spilling all of the contents of his stomach into it. After all of that, he reached out for Shoon, still trembling, tears beginning to run down his cheeks, misery and regret written on his face, and he buried his head in Shoon’s chest, sobbing, saying in between heaving gulps of air

“I-I’m sorry. I didn't mean it. It didn't mean it. I don't want—I don't—I’m so sorry. I'm so, so—Never. Never again, I promise. I won't—not ever. Sorry. I don't want—never. Promise.” Shoon didn't know what to say, so he said nothing, just cradling Hikaru in his arms until he finally fell asleep. Taiyo stood, grabbing the vomit filled bucket and taking it to the bathroom, and Yabu just sat on his futon, fingers curled into fists in his blanket, and he asked quietly

“What's going to happen to him? Will he be okay?” Shoon wrapped his arms a bit tighter around Hikaru, nodding.

“He’ll be okay. I promise.”


	6. Chapter 6

By the time the sun rose Hikaru had sobered up, much to Shoon’s relief. The next few days continued in the way Shoon expected for the most part. Hikaru was miserable, barely able to keep any food down, feverish and in pain. He had harsh mood swings, yelling at Yabu, at Taiyo and Shoon, saying cruel words before collapsing in tears, promises falling from his lips, promises that this was the last time, that he’d never do it again, and Shoon wished he could believe him. Hikaru didn’t leave the apartment while his body purged the drug from his system, and he truly was a mess, complaining of back and joint pains, shivering and sweating and unable to keep his meals down, no matter how bland they were. It was distressing, and while it wasn’t anything Shoon hadn’t ever seen before, it was somehow worse this time than any of the times previous.

It was Yabu, Shoon realized on the third day as he watched the younger boy take Hikaru a clean bucket, just in case he threw his lunch up. Yabu’s coming had been the start of a new era; he’d changed their group, and Shoon had thought that he’d been a sign, a symbol of Hikaru’s fresh start. Yabu wasn’t supposed to see this, his coming had meant—at least, he had come to mean, in Shoon’s mind—that this was all over. That Hikaru was clean. And it was hard to see the living metaphor for Hikaru’s fresh leaf pushing his sweaty bangs away from his eyes, anxiety and fear on his face, as Hikaru fought through the symptoms of his withdrawal; everything positively ruined. It was so discouraging that it hurt physically, deep down.

It took a little over a week for Hikaru to be rid of the last of his withdrawal symptoms, and he continued to tell Shoon every day that he was sorry. He continued to swear that he was done, that he’d never shoot up again, and Yabu believed him. He was the only one. It was hard, but Shoon found that one day in late January he sighed, cutting Hikaru off in the middle of an apology and saying quietly

“Hikaru, those words have lost all meaning. Just show me.” Hikaru fell silent, and he never again brought up his addiction, but in the months to come, as winter turned to spring, he stayed sober, not objecting when Shoon would tie their ankles together at night before they went to sleep, or when Shoon would always tell him to get someone to go with him if he was leaving the apartment. This continued for a few months, and their lives were pretty peaceful for the most part, until one evening in mid-May, Shoon and Hikaru home trying to divide up the fruit they had managed to steal into four even portions for their dinner, Shoon wondering openly just what Yabu and Taiyo were doing, when their front door burst open. Yabu and Taiyo bolted in, their eyes wild, fear in their faces.

“SHUT THE DOOR! SHUT IT! QUICK!” Yabu squealed, cowering behind Shoon, but it was too late, the figure of an adult already in their doorway, and Shoon threw his arms out, pulling Taiyo and Hikaru behind him with Yabu, heart stopping in his chest for a moment as he glared at this stranger. It was a man, probably in his early thirties, with long hair, his shoes polished within an inch of their life, and a white button down shirt—mostly open—draped over his shoulders, the sheer fabric letting what looked to be extensive tattoos seep through, hinting at just what he was. Once Shoon was sure the other boys were behind him, were _safe,_ he grabbed his knife from the worn pocket of his tattered, too small jeans, before rushing at their intruder.

The man cursed in surprise as Shoon lunged at his throat, his knife catching the man’s skin and slicing down one of his collar bones, drawing blood as the old blade dragged through flesh. Shoon spun, kicking out at one of the man’s knees, trying to get him to lose his balance, fear and adrenaline rushing through him, and the man cursed again, shoving Shoon away. It didn’t do much, Shoon regaining his footing in a heartbeat. This man was on the defensive. Now Shoon just had to get him to _leave._

This time though, when he ran back at the stranger, the man lunged forward, his reach longer than Shoon had been anticipating, wrapping one arm around Shoon’s torso, pinning his arms to his sides with an iron grip, his other hand grabbing a fistful of Shoon’s hair, pulling Shoon to his chest. Fear welled up inside of him, and he struggled against the man’s grip, trying to reach him with his knife, looking for a pressure point, a nerve center he could apply pressure to, but he was trapped. It all happened in a moment, and as the grip around him tightened, Hikaru yelled, eyes wide and brimming with tears.

“Mayo! No!” Hikaru darted away from Taiyo and Yabu, running up to Shoon’s attacker and punching him, raining his fists down on the man’s side, before leaning in and biting the man on the arm, hard. He yelped, but he didn’t let go of Shoon, instead kicking out at Hikaru, sending him sprawling backwards, muttering, just loud enough for Shoon to hear

“Fucking brats. Tough bastards.” His tone betrayed nothing but surprise and amusement, and it was then that he let Shoon go, shoving him back toward Taiyo and Yabu, still just standing there in the doorway, a small smile on his face. But Shoon and Hikaru both got to their feet, Shoon raising his knife, and the smile slipped a little, the man reaching slowly for his waistband before whipping out a _gun._ Shoon’s heart stopped for a moment, his throat closing up as fear washed over him. It was then that the man finally addressed them

“How about you calm down, and I’ll put this away, yeah?” Hikaru glanced over at Shoon immediately, eyes wide, and Shoon swallowed, nodding slowly, lowering his knife and flicking the blade closed, that moment terrifying, waiting for the man to do as he’d said. But then he too lowered his weapon, putting it back in the waistband of his pants before stepping over the threshold, and a little bit of the tension left the room. “Your buddy there stole my cigarettes.” The man said, still addressing Shoon, but pointing at Yabu. Shoon blinked in surprise, glancing over at Yabu. _What?_ What on earth would Yabu want with cigarettes? Yabu was shaking, and now he was looking at Shoon with a hint of embarrassment.

“I...I wasn’t going for them. Taiyo was teaching me how to pickpocket, and...I missed.” Behind him, Taiyo nodded, head bobbing like that of a toy, his eyes wide. It would have been comical, if not for the gangster in their home.

“Yabu, give this man his smokes back.” Shoon said, Yabu nodding, thrusting the little cardboard carton out in front of his body at once, arm extended as far as it could go, and the man closed the distance between them to take the little package back, saying quietly

“Thanks kid.” He ran a hand through his long hair, taking one of the cigarettes out of the package and sticking it between his lips with a sigh. “You know after my son was born I was going to stop smoking.” He declared, fishing a lighter out of his pocket and lighting the cigarette, taking a drag before plucking it from his lips. “I did too, for about a year, but...it was too easy to start back up.” Yabu glanced up at the man, bewilderment on his face, before sending Shoon a confused glance. Shoon had no idea why the man was still there, in their apartment, but he didn’t dare try to kick him out, just standing there, trying to judge the situation.

“He’s a little bit younger than you four, I bet. How old are you?” He asked, the question broad, to the whole room. Shoon shrugged. He’d been told he was probably about twelve or thirteen, born right around the time that the previous emperor had died, but he didn’t really know. It wasn’t like he had a birthday or anything. The other boys all had more definitive answers.

“Eleven.”

“Ten.”

“Ten.” The man nodded.

“My Keito is eight now. He’s so cute, he likes to run around the house, pretending to fight enemies with a stick he found in the park. He calls them _dishonorable bastards;_ his mother doesn’t really like it, says he’s going to get bullied at school if he keeps talking like that.” He told them, taking another drag from his cigarette, amusement in his face at the memory. His eyes wandered over the apartment, taking in the outdated kitchen and the grimy floor, and he said “You brats live on your own.” It wasn’t really a question, but when the man turned his gaze onto Shoon he nodded anyway. It was pointless to deny it. The man pursed his lips, falling into silence for a moment, before telling them

“You boys should know that I’m the Kanbu for the Kitagawa Group.” He paused, taking a drag from his cigarette. “I’ve actually been looking for some young people to run some new territory we’ve acquired. Smart people. Tough people.” He took another drag from the cigarette, glancing down at Shoon. “It’s not a large acquisition, but it’s rather isolated from our main territory. I’ve already got a building that will serve as a good base, it just needs some renovations and then it’ll be move in ready. It’d be much nicer than this place.” He paused. “It would be more of a home. More permanent.” He was fixing them all with an expectant look. “What do you boys think? The Kitagawa Group could use some fighters like you.”

Shoon was completely blindsided by the man’s offer, and he looked to the other boys, looking for some guidance, but they were staring at him with wide, seeking, innocent eyes, and he found that all words had left him. The man stared at him for a moment, a small, bemused smile on his face, and he flicked his hair back, knocking some of the ash off of his cigarette before saying in a way that was disconcertingly caring

“You can think it over. Here—” He stuck the butt of his cigarette between his lips and pulled out his wallet, the four of them all watching as he flicked through its contents, pulling out a receipt and a pen and scribbling something on it, before handing it over. “—you kids can meet me here, in a week. It’s a safe, public place, so you can feel more secure. You’ll fit right in, it's a children's gym. I promise that no matter what everything from here on out will be civil.” Shoon nodded, glancing down at the paper for a moment, and when he looked back up the man had extended a hand out to Yabu, bills folded and tucked in between his fingers, offering them to the boy. Yabu gave him a cautious look before reaching out and sliding the money out of the yakuza man’s hand, squeezing it tightly in his little fist. The man smiled.

“T-thank you.” Taiyo stuttered out, and the man nodded, turning back to Shoon.

“I’m glad I ran into you…” He shot Shoon a perturbed look.

“Oh, uh, Yamashita. Yamashita Shoon.”

“Yamashita-kun.” He nodded. “Okamoto Kenichi. Good luck brats. See you in a week.” With that the man took the last dregs of his cigarette from his lips and let himself out, long hair glinting in the light of the moon. They all watched him go in silence, the four of them still numb with the shock of the man’s visit. That dinner all they could talk about was his hair and his words, and Hikaru did an impersonation of the yakuza man that made them all laugh. The man had been unlike anyone Shoon had ever met, a calm confidence about him, an aura that made him distinctly different from other adults. He wondered what it was about this man that made him special, but he couldn’t place it. Perhaps it had just been the way he’d talked to them, open minded and casual.

It wasn’t until that night, after dinner had been eaten, and they were all rolling their futons out in a circle to go to bed that the guy’s offer was really brought up, Hikaru in the middle of tying their ankles together when he turned to Shoon and asked

“So...what do you want to do?”

“Do?”

“Yeah, about his offer.” Shoon sighed, flopping down on his futon and rolling so that he was on his stomach, the other boys all following suit, their heads propped up in their hands.

“What do you think?” He asked. Yabu shrugged, his bony shoulders going up to his ears before dropping, his little body heaving as he sighed.

“I think we don’t need him.” Hikaru declared, eyes glinting in the light of the little handheld lantern they kept on at night. “You’re better than he is; we can do it all by ourselves.”

“I want a house.” The words burst from Taiyo’s mouth in a rush, and he looked embarrassed as soon as he said them, his cheeks flushing pink, his fingers plucking at his pillow, eyes cast downward.

“Taiyo has a point.” Shoon said, all three boys raising their heads to look at him as the words left his lips. “This place isn’t a real home. Just because no one’s bothered us yet doesn’t mean we’re free to stay here as long as we like. It could get torn down, or some adults could take it away. We could do with something more secure. No one could take what Okamoto-san is offering away from us.” They all fell silent. It was a few moments before Yabu said

“Do you think I would get my own room?” Shoon blinked in surprise at the question, and he shrugged.

“Maybe.”

“What about hot showers?” Shoon smiled, still bemused by the excitement in Yabu’s voice.

“Probably.” He conceded.

“But…” Hikaru was the only one looking tentative now, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. “What do you want? Do you trust him?”

“I...I want…” Shoon wasn’t sure how to form his thoughts into words. He frowned, trying to figure it out. “I just don’t ever want to be separate from you. All of you.” A silence fell over their little circle, and it was hard to get the next few words out, his pride making him feel rather embarrassed. “I would be nothing without you. And so...if Okamoto-san can keep us together, if we can be a family forever, then I want to accept his offer.”

“I want to be a family too!” Yabu exclaimed, voice watery, eyes brimming with tears, and Shoon couldn’t fight the smile that bloomed on his face at that, chuckling at the dramatics. Taiyo was smiling too, his cheeks even more red, and Hikaru had a small smile on his face, his eyes calm and confident as he nodded.

“I want that too. Forever. Whatever you want.” He reached out, grabbing Shoon’s hand with his own, tanner one, and giving it a squeeze. Shoon took in a deep breath, sighing.

“Well, we’ll talk about this more tomorrow, and see how everyone feels in the morning.” There were nods all around, and the boys all settled into their futons, the conversation closed for the night. They had conversations every night after that in the week leading up to the _big day_—as Taiyo had taken to calling it—but the outcome never changed. In the end, they agreed that regardless of any strings attached, a proper home, a chance at life, was worth all of the risks they could think of, and so on the morning of their designated meeting Shoon had them all take quick showers, the water pelting their skin and numbing them to the bone as it washed away weeks of dirt and sweat, but it felt better to be going toward their future clean, in every sense of the word.


	7. Chapter 7

That morning they all dressed in their least tattered clothes, Shoon taking pictures of everyone before they set off in search of their designated meeting place. It took a bit longer to find than they’d anticipated, and they arrived over fifteen minutes late. Shoon’s stomach was turning knots as they peered through the building’s glass doors and saw the yakuza man standing just inside the entrance, leaned up against the wall, waiting for them. He couldn’t help but pause for a moment, feeling insecure and anxious in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time; was this the right choice? His hesitation wasn’t observed by the other boys however, Yabu grabbing Hikaru by the hand and pulling him ahead, while Taiyo just smiled, a little skip in his step, his hair bouncing up and down, shining in the light of the sun. Their confidence made him feel a little bit better, and it was the push he needed to cross the threshold and enter the building.

Kenichi pushed off of the wall as soon as he saw them, picking up a big shopping bag from where it had been plopped on the floor at his feet, and he smiled a little, watching as they drew close. His smile grew as they gathered around him, Taiyo in particular looking up at him with big, excited eyes, and he leaned down, ruffling Taiyo’s hair a bit before saying

“Let’s talk; there’s an empty gym at the end of the hall that won’t be in use for another two hours. How’s that sound?” Shoon swallowed, letting out a breath and nodding, and they all followed Kenichi down the hall to a pair of swinging doors, which turned out to lead to a basketball gym. He took a seat in the bleachers, and they all sat around him, sitting on the seats all sideways and backwards so that they could look at him properly. There was a moment of silence, Yabu leaning into Shoon’s side a bit, before the man ran a hand through his long hair and asked

“So, have you brats thought about my offer?”

“Yeah.” He raised his eyebrows bemusedly, obviously waiting for Shoon to continue, and Shoon set his shoulders, hands tight on his knees as he declared “We want to take you up on it.” Kenichi nodded, reaching down into the bag he’d brought as he said

“Then I guess these are for you boys.” He pulled out cardboard boxes, passing them around, and there was a squeal of excitement as Hikaru opened his, pulling out a brand new pair of chuck taylors, pristine white, and Shoon couldn’t help the swell of excitement as the man passed him a box of his own, and he found a similar pair of shoes, in black. They were all chattering excitedly, immediately going to try the shoes on, and as they did Kenichi continued to talk to them. “Now, the place we’re renovating for you boys isn’t quite ready to move in yet, it will probably be another two weeks or so, but I can use that time to talk to my boss. There’s usually an initiation ceremony, but we can discuss that at a later time, perhaps after you boys have settled in. And we need to decide on your kumi’s leader.”

That last sentence caught their attention, everyone falling silent, Shoon included. They’d need a leader? Someone in charge. Was he going to have someone they didn’t know; some yakuza man, come to tell them what to do, and live with them? That thought put a sour taste in his mouth, and he shared a look with the other boys, concern and uncertainty plastered on all of their faces. Hikaru in particular was frowning, his eyebrows pushed harshly together. Kenichi seemed to sense the discomfort, and he glanced at Shoon, looking mildly surprised by the response to his words, continuing

“I was going to suggest Yamashita-kun, since you boys all seem to follow him already, but…”

“Shoon would be our leader?” Taiyo asked, a smile already on his face.

“Yes. Mayo should do it.” Hikaru declared fiercely. “No one is better than Mayo.” Kenichi nodded, turning to Shoon.

“What do you think?” Feeling slightly blindsided, Shoon glanced back at the other boys, and they were all looking at him, Yabu giving him a little nod.

“I think yes. Yes, I’ll do it.” Hikaru stood up, reaching across Yabu and throwing his arms around Shoon in an excited hug, and the enthusiasm made Shoon smile.

“As the leader you’ll be given the title of Kumi-cho, and you’ll attend some leader meetings and be in charge of the territory. It will be your job to make sure that the territory is held, and that the members of your kumi are taken care of. I’ll help you get settled into the role; I think you’ll be well suited to it, Yamashita-kun.” Shoon just nodded, not really sure what he was getting himself into, but—seeing the smiles on his companion’s faces—not really minding too much. He’d figure it out. “Alright! I think that’s it…the shoes all fit?” More nods, Taiyo speaking up, thanking Kenichi for the presents.

“We should take a picture.” Yabu declared, Shoon nodding and smiling, picking up the camera from where it had been set down behind them, out of the way. Kenichi stood with them, watching as Shoon herded the other boys onto the gym floor, making them all sit, before seeming to realize that Shoon was going to take the photo. It was then that he reached out, offering

“I’ll take it, you get in there.” Shoon blinked up at him in surprise, but he gently handed the camera over, and he jogged over to the others, plopping down between Yabu and Hikaru, the four of them smiling as Kenichi took a photo, and then another, in rapid succession. He handed them back the camera, and they all crowded around as the picture formed on the film. Kenichi fingered one of the images, asking “Do you kids mind if I keep one? It would be good to show my boss.” Shoon nodded, fingers tight on their copy of the photograph, and Kenichi smiled, slipping it into his wallet, right next to a picture of a little boy with long hair and a brilliant smile, his little eyes twinkling, arms outstretched, head tilted up to look at the photographer; he must be the son Kenichi had mentioned.

They parted ways shortly after, Kenichi promising to come and get them as soon as their new home was ready for them to move in, and those words sent a buzzing excitement tingling down Shoon’s limbs, a smile blooming over his lips as he nodded. It would only be a week or two, and then they’d have a home. A proper home, where they could be a family of their own and they would be secure in knowing they were safe from the little nagging worry that Shoon had held after he’d been left alone: the worry that the apartment would be taken away.

The next few days seemed to drag by at a crawling pace. Everyone was excited, their conversations consisting of nothing but speculation about what the new place would be like, and when Kenichi would come to pick them up. They all packed up their belongings the day after their meeting with the yakuza man, wanting to be ready to leave on a moment’s notice, impatient and ready to just _go._ It was hard to wait, when there were so many positive things waiting on the horizon, and the other boys made their impatience clear, whining about how long Kenichi was taking, and wishing for the days to go by faster.

Shoon, while in some ways sharing in their impatience, also found himself wishing on occasion for the time to slow, wanting to relish these last few days of normalcy, wanting to take comfort in the familiarity of the apartment, and their routine. The change, no matter how good he knew it would be _logically,_ scared him a bit. It was not enough to make him question his decision, but it did make the instant ramen dinners on the floor and the refrigerator—that had never in his years of living there worked—seem a bit more charming. It made them seem like things he would miss.

Despite any wistfulness or perceived impermanence, one morning at the beginning of June there was a knock on the apartment door while they all were sitting around their grimy little kitchen eating breakfast, and Taiyo pulled open the door to reveal Kenichi standing there, his long hair framing his face, sunglasses hiding his eyes, a cigarette between his lips, his silky leopard print button down shirt opened up just enough to see the edge of a tattoo peeking through. When the door swung open he smiled around his cigarette, plucking it from his lips and stepping over the threshold, asking in an almost teasing fashion, as he pushed his sunglasses up to rest on his head

“Ready to get out of this shit hole, boys?” Shoon felt an electric energy run through him, and he immediately abandoned his onigiri—stolen from the conbini two blocks down—and got to his feet, unable to keep himself from asking

“It’s it ready to move in? The place you were getting ready; we can go and stay?” Kenichi nodded, taking a quick drag from his cigarette.

“We can go as soon as you’re packed; I have a car waiting out front to take us there immediately.” Taiyo let out a little squeak of excitement, and Yabu turned to Kenichi, telling him seriously

“We’ve been packed for _ever.”_ Kenichi chuckled amusedly at the declaration, but he nodded.

“Grab your things then boys, you’re going home.” He said, and they all sprung to action, scrambling for their bags and slinging them on their shoulders, slipping their sneakers on and lacing them up with hurried fingers before following Kenichi out into the morning sun, their breakfasts forgotten. Shoon couldn’t help but glance back at the ratty apartment, watching Kenichi shut the door behind them, an unexpected sadness rising up and constricting his throat. It was then that he felt a hand grab his own, Hikaru holding onto him tightly and asking

“Are you okay, Mayo?” His voice was grounding, and it reminded Shoon of why they were doing this, and he nodded, inhaling deeply before letting the breath out, releasing with it some of the tension he’d been carrying in his shoulders.

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go Hachibee.” He assured the younger boy, giving the hand holding his own a squeeze. Perhaps this new place would be the fresh start for Hikaru that he’d thought Yabu had been signaling. Perhaps it would be the final push Hikaru needed to stay clean. This move would change their whole lives, and Shoon was determined to make it a change for the better. Still, he was going to miss the apartment, he thought, as the fancy black limo that Kenichi had piled them all into pulled away, the old decrepit building falling out of sight as they drove off. They were heading southwest, and Taiyo kept asking Kenichi just _’how far?’_ while Yabu’s questions were about the place they were going to be living. Kenichi told them it was a surprise, and Shoon remained silent for most of the drive, watching as his town and his whole life whirled past him outside of the car window. Hikaru leaned against him, his hand still clutching tight to Shoon’s own, and all throughout the ride he didn't let go.

“We’re almost there.” Kenichi told them eventually, as the limo crossed over a bridge. “This is officially your territory now.” He declared, as the car made it to the far side of the bridge, winding them through streets, past schools and playgrounds, shops and bars and at least one love hotel, eventually taking them out into an area that seemed abandoned, the streets empty, buildings dirty, and Shoon was beginning to wonder if this was actually going to be any better than the old apartment when the car stopped, Kenichi talking quietly to the driver before stepping out and opening the back door, declaring “We’ll walk the rest of the way.”

He helped them gather their things, and he led them down a few blocks, before pointing to a building up ahead of them. It was concrete, and the only thing that distinguished it from the buildings around it was the door, painted a fresh red.

“That’s it.” Kenichi told them, excitement swelling up inside of Shoon as he looked back over at the door, a world of possibilities embodied in that unassuming entranceway. “Go see.” The four of them took off, darting for the door, and it was Shoon that got there first, hand wrapping around the doorknob and turning, pushing the door open. It was dark, and the climax to his excitement was rather ruined as he fumbled around for a light switch. This was made up for however, when he found one, flicking it up and gasping in reflex. It was huge, the room he was standing in already about as big as his whole apartment, and he let his gaze sweep around the area.

It was furnished to be a living room, huge couches in the center around a coffee table, the space cozy and inviting. There were a couple of doors leading off to other areas of the house, and a staircase to the right. And past that there was even _more,_ a table visible, a small circular wooden one with four chairs around it, and the sight of that table made something in Shoon’s chest ache with happiness. The other boys all squealed in excitement as they came in, dropping their belongings just inside the door and taking off their shoes before flitting around the space, all of them dispersing in different directions, squealing and calling to each other about things they found.

Shoon went over to the table, running his fingers over the lacquered wood and feeling the curves of the backs of the chairs under his fingertips, glancing up to see a full kitchen tucked away on the other side of the staircase. He was amazed that this, all of this was for _them._ It was so fantastic that it seemed too good to be true, and when Kenichi appeared in the doorway, one of their bags slung over his shoulder Shoon ran to him, throwing his arms around him and burying his face in the man’s chest, Kenichi wrapping his arms around Shoon and holding him close, saying

“Welcome to the family.” The words melted away any remnants of uncertainty or distrust Shoon had been holding onto, and he found himself beaming, a laugh bubbling out of his chest as Kenichi said “Now go, see if you can find your bedroom.” His words were interrupted by Hikaru’s voice calling him, fast with excitement

“Shoon! Shoon come look! You have books!” Kenichi smiled, gesturing for him to go to Hikaru, and he found himself flitting away, turning to see Hikaru’s head peeking out of a doorway on the far end of the living room, and going to join him. It was what looked to be a room made for studying, bookshelves lining the walls, books with titles of all sorts filling the shelves. There was one section looked to be nothing but school books, books from all years of schooling all lined up. Everything they had missed out on was there, for them. They were being given the tools to learn, and it was exciting, the prospect of being able to read books and understand concepts and be _more._ He wanted to grab one of the books then and there and just sit and start, but Hikaru grabbed him by the arm, dragging him off to show him the rest of the house.

They had more space than they knew what to do with, everyone getting their own bedroom, with rooms to spare. There were closets full of clothes, bathrooms both upstairs and down, and a whole separate room just to do laundry. It was all already furnished, everything they could possibly need, from toothbrushes to toilet paper to chopsticks had been bought for them, sorted out and put away, and it didn’t take long for their belongings to be unpacked, and for the house to start feeling like a home.


	8. Chapter 8

Weeks turn into months, and Shoon could see the boys really start to flourish as they settled into their new home. They now had an unlimited supply of food, good, healthy food, and as if in response Taiyo started growing like a weed, shooting up taller than any of them. They all had school books, and they sat around the table in the mornings, the four of them studying together, trying to figure out characters and solve math problems, the ones that had been to some school helping out the ones that hadn’t. It was fun; it felt good to learn, the feeling of understanding that washed over him whenever some piece of new information clicked one Shoon loved. It felt almost as good as the bonding they were getting from the study sessions, and he made those top priority.

Kenichi came by at least once a week, if not nearly every other day, bringing them supplies and teaching them things like how to use their washing machine, or how to make pancakes. It was fun, and Shoon looked forward to his visits, Kenichi often sitting him down and explaining to him how the Kitagawa Group worked, telling him what the Kumi-cho’s duties were, and teaching him his own separate set of skills, skills he might need to use, as a yakuza leader. Things like how to gamble, and how to load a gun, and Shoon would nod along and do his best with each new task, not wanting to let Kenichi down. He wanted to be able to repay the man for everything he’d done for them, wanted to ensure the other boys’ happiness and safety. He’d never seen any of them so happy before.

Hikaru in particular was fantastic to watch. He always had a grin on his face, a mischievous light in his eye, and he excelled in making them laugh, his presence brightening up every room he entered. He was proving to be smart too, his way of viewing the world unlike any of theirs, and it seemed to serve him well during their study sessions, often working faster than the rest of them, pushing ahead and working his problems out with scribbled notes and diagrams, defeating the work like Shoon defeated an enemy, looking at the pages with an amazing sense of logic. He hadn’t had a relapse since their last winter in the apartment, and as summer turned to autumn, and autumn turned to winter once more, Shoon found himself wondering if perhaps the days of Hikaru’s addiction were finally behind them.

That winter they celebrated lots of things, Kenichi providing them with cakes for their birthdays, as well as surprising them with a tree for Christmas, helping them decorate it, and then, only a few days before Christmas Hikaru told Shoon, pride shining in his eyes, that it was his one year anniversary. It took Shoon a moment to understand what Hikaru was implying, but when he did, when he realized that Hikaru was right—that it had been a year since his last relapse—he let out a yell of excitement, unable to hold back as he pulled Hikaru in for a hug, already spouting words of praise, his chest swelling with happiness, and he felt that he wasn’t able to express in words just how _proud_ he was of Hikaru. It was amazing that he’d done it. He’d been clean for a whole year.

He announced that they needed to celebrate, wanting to call Kenichi and have the man bring them a cake, but when he suggested the idea Hikaru paled, shaking his head.

“I...I don’t want him to know. I don’t want to have to tell him about...about the drugs.” Shoon nodded, and Hikaru continued “I don’t want anyone to know...I...I told you I wasn’t ever going to shoot up again. I really meant it. That’s in the past, and I want it to stay there.”

“Okay.” Shoon said, that one little word holding in it more meaning than he cared to examine, and Hikaru’s shoulders relaxed, and he smiled. “Then...how about instead I teach you how to play poker?” Shoon offered, and Hikaru’s eyes lit up at the prospect of a new game to play, and he nodded, Shoon going to his bedroom to get the pack of playing cards Kenichi had given him. Perhaps, he hoped, this time Hikaru’s promise would hold. Perhaps, this time, he thought, as the four of them sat up late around the kitchen table, cards in their hands and smiles on their faces, they’d finally put the drugs behind them.

By the next year, all doubt Shoon had been holding onto had been washed away. Hikaru had made it clear that the drugs, the addiction, was a thing of the past, and Shoon was more proud of him than he’d ever been of anything in his fourteen years of life, and as they went into the new year, it was stronger and smarter and closer than ever, and Shoon felt like he could take on the world, so long as Taiyo, Hikaru, and Yabu were by his side. The first part of the year was relatively calm, Kenichi stopping by less and less, the man seeming to be very busy with other matters, Shoon still seeing him at least once a month at leader meetings.

The four of them spent their days in peace, nothing out of the ordinary until one day in mid-September, when just as they were about to set the table for dinner there was a knock on their door, bringing along with it great change. It was a boy, smaller and younger than they were, with cute round eyes and bruises on his knuckles, the kid introducing himself as _Yuto._ Yuto looked up at Shoon, shivering slightly in the chill of the autumn evening, and when he asked if he could stay, Shoon couldn’t find it in his heart to turn the boy away. And so, their little group of four became a group of five.

Yuto was a fantastic addition to the house. He got along well with everyone, and he had this wholesome innocence that they had all lost long before, a quality that was extremely endearing. They all liked him, and he was quickly bought a bed and books and clothes and everything he could possibly need. He was cute, and smart, and he fit in well. His presence however, marked the end of their peaceful days. A little under a month after Yuto had joined them Shoon had just sent the other boys off to bed, and was in the process of cleaning up after their last game of poker when there was a bang on the door, Shoon looking up in time to see it burst open, five boys he’d never seen before pushing their way in and yelling, something fierce in their eyes as they caught sight of him, one of them throwing himself in his direction.

A spike of panic flooded his veins, and Shoon scrambled away from the strangers, unsure of what was happening and _why._ But he didn’t have long to ponder, a fist flying toward his face as soon as the attackers were within range. He ducked, whirling around and letting out a yell as he retaliated, punching the boy frantically in the shoulder as he tried to get his bearings. It didn’t do much, and he felt a sharp pain on his shoulder blade, and he yelped in surprise, turning to see the glint of a blade, stained red with his own blood clenched in his attacker’s fist.

The noises must have alerted the other boys that something was wrong, because as he turned back to face his opponent, over his shoulder he saw the other four running down the stairs, their eyes wide and fists clenched, and he felt a little sick, his fear rising exponentially. He didn’t want them to get hurt. His distraction left him open however, and this time there was nothing he could do as a fist connected with his jaw, knocking him off of his feet. The jarring pain focused him, and instead of pulling himself to his feet he scrambled for his attackers legs, grabbing at him and pressing down on the flesh, fingers feeling for a major nerve center and squeezing as soon as he’d found one, the boy yelping in shock and pain, and kicking out, trying to get him to let go.

He held on for a few moments, struggling to get his feet under him. He regained his center of balance before releasing his grasp, getting to his feet just to jab the boy in the throat, putting pressure sharply on his windpipe, and the guy gasped for air, Shoon knocking his legs out from under him with one swift kick, leaning down and grabbing the boy by his hair, slamming his head into the floor until he stopped moving. He snatched the knife out of the boy’s slack grasp once he was sure the kid wasn’t getting up, pulling himself to his feet, his heart racing as he scanned the area for his family.

They were by the stairs and in the kitchen, the four of them all struggling against their own opponents. Hikaru was wrestling on the ground with a boy much bigger than himself, Yabu and Taiyo meanwhile were working together; Yabu had grabbed one of their attacker’s arms, while Taiyo had him by his ankle, and they were pulling in opposite directions, their faces screwed up in concentration. It would have been funny, if Shoon weren’t so terrified for their safety. Yuto meanwhile, was fighting two boys singlehandedly, his tiny body dwarfed by the teens. He didn’t seem to notice, or care, that the kids were bigger than him, his cute face screwed up in determination, and as Shoon made his way over Yuto kicked out, hitting one of his opponents in the chest, making the guy stumble backwards.

It was heartstopping, watching Yuto fight, watching him spin out, his little hands curled into fists, and Shoon lunged for the first attacker he could reach, and he put him in a headlock, cutting off his air and kneeing him in the back as the boy struggled for breath, holding him like that until he went limp, Yuto focusing on his other opponent. He was putting up quite a fight, but Shoon saw red when—as the boy he had in a headlock finally went limp—Yuto was struck in the face, and he was sent sprawling to the floor. Shoon shoved the limp boy in his arms to the ground, rushing over to where Yuto was pushing himself back to his feet, crouching down at once and asking

“Are you okay?” Yuto nodded, eyes wide and watery, and Shoon spun on the attacker, punching him right in the face, the boy stumbling before falling to his knees. It was then that he seemed to realize that he and his companions were losing this fight, and he threw his hands up in defeat, cowering and yelling for a retreat. Shoon backed down, watching as the boys scrambled away from their opponents and ran to the two unconscious on the living room floor, picking them up and returning back out into the night. HIkaru was on the floor as well, his lip busted, swollen and bleeding, and Yabu and Taiyo were both standing in the kitchen, their little bodies quivering, eyes wide, looking numb as they stood there.

There was a moment of silence, everyone still, before Hikaru cursed lowly, pulling himself up into a sitting position, the action bringing them all to life.

“Is everyone okay?” Shoon asked, his heart still racing in his chest, adrenaline pumping through his system, his whole body left tense from the unexpected attack. There were blank stares all around, and after a moment Hikaru said, sounding almost frustrated

“C’mon. On a scale of one to dead how hurt is everyone?” Those words were immediately met with snorts of laughter, and Shoon felt his body relax on reflex at the sound, crossing the room to help Hikaru to his feet before sinking into a chair. The others all gathered around him, and he got a good look at them, bruises starting to form on jawlines, and eyes and lips swelling from where they’d been struck. He could feel his own jaw pulsing with pain, feel the heat of blood rushing to the area, and he knew it was swelling up.

“You’re hurt, Kumi-cho.” Yuto murmured, pointing with wide eyes, and Shoon tried to get a good look at his shoulder, not really able to see it, the fabric of his shirt—stained red with his blood—in the way. He made to take it off, but the adrenaline was wearing off, and every movement sent sharp pains radiating from the area. The other three all rushed around the table to see his wound, eyes wide, and they let out little whimpers and squeaks of surprise, hovering but not moving, and it took Shoon a few seconds to say

“Can...can someone just cut this shirt off? It’s ruined anyway.” He paused, sighing in defeat as he stopped tugging at his clothes. “And...get the first aid kit. And ice. We need to get patched up. Hikaru’s lip is going to get bigger than his face.” His requests were followed at once, the boys all scattering in different directions, Hikaru returning with the scissors, while Yabu came back with a pot full of ice, and wet washcloths, Taiyo last, the first aid kit Kenichi had supplied them with in his arms. They got to work cleaning each other up, Shoon’s shirt cut away, the wound cleaned and dressed in gauze.

As they worked, they asked questions. They wanted to know who those boys were, and why they had attacked, and Shoon felt guilty that he couldn’t give them any information. He had questions of his own, and the attack had left him feeling suddenly insecure about their safety. It was a feeling he hadn’t had in years, and it churned in his stomach, almost nauseating as he tucked them in bed for the night. Not sure what else to do, he called Kenichi as soon as the others were all asleep, waking the man up, much to Kenichi’s disgruntlement. Once Kenichi had been filled in however he was no longer angry, immediately asking frantically about their wellbeing, and promising to look into their attackers.

It was during that phone call that Kenichi suggested that they should be doing some sort of fight training, the concept one Shoon immediately took to. They all needed to know how to defend themselves, especially if this didn’t turn out to be an isolated incident. They didn’t all have a history of karate lessons to fall back on like little Yuto did. After giving Kenichi one last assurance that they really were all okay, Shoon bid the man goodnight, exhaustion weighing on him, the pull making his whole body feel heavy, and as soon has his body hit the mattress he surrendered to sleep.


	9. Chapter 9

Kenichi called Shoon back a few days later to inform him that the kids that had attacked them had been members of a rival group, part of a neighboring kumi called the Wakaba. The information didn’t shed much light on the _why_ of the incident, but it was good to put a name to their attackers. In the following weeks Shoon implemented a new fight training regimen into their day to day routines. It started immediately after they finished their study sessions, Hikaru making a remark during one of the first fight practices about them training their minds and bodies equally that made Shoon smile. The boys all seemed to agree on the importance of these sessions, but none of the others were as enthusiastic as Hikaru.

While Taiyo and Yabu approached the sparring practices with caution, Hikaru lept at the chance, always willing to try something new, coming at Shoon with everything he had every time they sparred. It was fun, working with Hikaru, and they made each other better, Hikaru’s determination and obvious enjoyment of it all infectious. Hikaru was the hardest working of all of them, ready to keep going long after Shoon had thrown in the towel for the day, and he quickly filled out, his whole body a tight ball of muscle. Hikaru was a fast learner, and a fantastic strategist, able to think a few moves ahead when meanwhile Yabu and Taiyo could barely muster up the will to actually punch and kick at Shoon.

When not at home sparring or studying or playing around Yabu, Taiyo, and Hikaru had taken to hanging out at the underling housing, Shoon learning over dinner conversations that they had befriended one of the boys, a kid around their own age named Inoo Kei. They talked often about Inoo and his companion, a fierce boy they called _‘The Dragon’,_ telling Shoon and all about their friend enthusiastically, talking about how he and this dragon boy had established themselves as the toughest boys in the underlings. It wasn’t until Yabu’s fourteenth birthday however, that Shoon met Inoo and his companion. Yabu had asked if he could please _please_ invite Inoo to celebrate, Shoon agreeing readily, much to the other kids’ excitement.

Shoon wasn’t sure what he had been expecting, but when two skinny, dirty kids in thin clothes, their lips blue from the cold, walked through their door, his protective instincts kicked in, getting the kids warmer clothes at once, feeding them a proper meal, and by the end of the night he found himself offering the two of them a place to stay in their home, unable to find it in himself to send those boys back out into the cold January night. Inoo, the larger of the two, accepted his offer at once, thanking Shoon profusely for his hospitality, but the smaller, younger one—the one that the other kids called The Dragon, and Inoo had introduced simply as _Dai-chan_—took a bit of coaxing, his young eyes wary.

Over the years they gained more boys, their home filling up with an array of personalities, and as time passed, and their family grew, Shoon began to rely on Hikaru more and more. Hikaru was growing and maturing, becoming one of their strongest fighters, as well as someone the rest of the boys loved. Everyone wanted to be around Hikaru, he had an energy that radiated from his sharp wit and bright, intelligent eyes that drew everyone in. Hikaru was someone they all respected, and it was fantastic to watch him grow, both physically and mentally. He was reliable, and with each passing year Shoon found himself growing to trust Hikaru with things he wouldn’t have thought a few years prior, that he’d ever trust him with.

It was in the early summer of their fifth year as members of the Kitagawa Group, and Shoon had come back late from one of his biweekly tattooing sessions, the rest of the boys already in bed by the time he went to care for the fresh ink. He had set up shop in the kitchen by the sink, and he had managed to get the bandages off, but the attempts to wash his back were going poorly, his muscles sore from the needles, burning when he’d contort his body to try and reach it with his hands. He was so concentrated on his task that he didn’t hear Hikaru approaching, nearly jumping out of his skin when the younger teen said

“Need a hand, Mayo?” Hikaru was smiling bemusedly at him, and Shoon knew he had to look ridiculous, with his arms contorted the way he did, water and soap flung all around him. He felt a smile break out on his own face as his eyes met Hikaru’s own, and he nodded, Hikaru going to the sink and washing his hands. Shoon pulled out one of the chairs from the kitchen table, offering up his thanks as he felt Hikaru’s hands on his back, doing the job he’d been trying to do for him. They were silent for a few moments, Hikaru lathering his back in soap, the bubbles and water running down his skin and settling at the waistband of his jeans, absorbing into the fabric. But then, Hikaru asked

“Does it hurt?”

“Kinda. I mean, it's not like getting a blade to the arm or something...but it lasts longer and is more drawn out than a blade to the arm.” Shoon said, glancing over at Hikaru, trying to gauge his expression, to see if he’d explained it well. Hikaru nodded, looking thoughtful as he began to clean off the soap from Shoon’s back, and there was another lapse of silence before Hikaru asked

“What would you think about me maybe getting a tattoo?” Shoon blinked in surprise at the question, straightening up and turning around to look at Hikaru properly.

“You want to get one?” He asked, caught completely off guard by the question. Hikaru had never shown any interest in any sort of tattoo work before now; he’d never commented on Shoon or Daiki’s tattoos—at least, not without any sort of prompting. Shoon’s surprise seemed to make Hikaru feel rather self conscious, his cheeks tinting pink, and he glanced down for a moment, before he nodded, then shrugged.

“I’ve been thinking about it.” Shoon nodded, wondering what would be the best way to handle this conversation.

“What would you get? Do you know what you think you would want, if that’s what you decide you want to do?” Hikaru’s cheeks grew even redder at the questions, and he admitted quietly

“I don’t know.” He didn’t know. Shoon was confused now. Hikaru was claiming to want a tattoo, but to not even know what he wanted a tattoo of? It wasn’t like Hikaru to be so...spontaneous? Reckless? The second word was harsher, but perhaps more accurate. Shoon didn’t understand, something felt off, and while he wanted to support Hikaru, he couldn’t help but ask, his bewilderment clear in his tone

“But...why do you want one then? If you don’t even know what you’d get a tattoo of?”

“Because...I want to get one over these.” Hikaru said, extending his right arm fully, so that Shoon could get a good look at it. Over the years they had faded, but the scars, the little discolored pock marks left from his heroin addiction were still very visible, the trail of them running along his vein the first thing Shoon’s eyes went to when he looked at it. “I want to cover them up and make them go away. The other boys, and people I don’t know give me looks, and that would be fine if they were scars from something I was proud of, like a battle or something, but…” His words were coming slowly, falling from his lips carefully, like he was weighing them before he said them.

“But the thing is...I’m not proud. I don’t like the reminder there—all the time whenever I look down—of the awful things I used to do. Of what my parents did to me. I don’t want to be reminded of my addiction every waking moment of my life. I hate them.” He took a deep breath, pulling his arm in close to his chest, shielding the scars from Shoon’s eyes. “So I had been thinking that maybe, maybe I could get a tattoo, and cover the scars up.” He looked back up at Shoon, very serious. “I’m not trying to forget what I did, or what you did for me. But...I don’t want to be judged as something I’m not anymore.”

Shoon was floored, completely blindsided by Hikaru’s request, and his confession. He’d had no idea Hikaru had been feeling judged or self conscious about his scars. He’d never seen any behavior from the other boys that would suggest that was the case inside the house, but what he’d seen didn’t really matter, he realized almost as fast as the thought registered. What mattered was how Hikaru was feeling. And Hikaru had decided a long time ago that he’d wanted to put the drugs in his past. Now he just wanted to feel like he wasn’t being judged for his past mistakes. Shoon nodded.

“Hikaru, if you’d like I can talk to my tattoo artist, and we can get the marks all covered up.” He offered. “But, I want you to be positive in your decision first. Once you get the tattoos, you won’t be able to change your mind. You’ll be stuck with them, and probably in this lifestyle, forever.” He smiled a small smile. “I just don’t want you to regret it. But if you decide that you definitely want tattoos, then I support your decision one hundred percent. Okay?” Hikaru nodded, letting out a breath.

“Thanks Mayo.” His voice was quiet, and Shoon just nodded back. They didn’t talk about the concept of Hikaru getting tattooed again, the two of them working together to get Shoon’s tattoo taken care of before going their separate ways for the night. And indeed in the days to follow Hikaru didn’t bring it up, Shoon’s mind quickly becoming focused on other things; the Wakaba were growing more active. And when Takaki—their newest member of the household—asked to take in another child, all thoughts of his late night talk with Hikaru fled his mind. It wasn’t until that new child—a tiny boy named Chinen Yuri—started asking questions about Hikaru’s scars, that Shoon was reminded of their conversation.

And almost as if in response to Shoon’s thoughts, the following day after the study session had finished up Hikaru sat down at the kitchen table with Shoon, telling him in the buzz of afternoon snack time

“Mayo, I have to talk to you.” Shoon’s mind had still been on the study session they’d just completed, and getting to know Chinen, and the determination in Hikaru’s tone took him by surprise. He was even more surprised when Hikaru laid his right arm out on the table palm up, displaying his scars, and saying "I really want to do it. I want the tattoos. I'm sure of it." Shoon looked over the little scars, considering all that had gone into Hikaru’s decision, and he nodded. If this was what Hikaru wanted, Shoon would do everything he could to make it happen. But this was not a good time, and he said

"We'll discuss this in detail tonight, after dinner." Hikaru nodded in agreement, a huge smile on his face, and just seeing how excited Hikaru was about the whole thing made Shoon excited. This would be good. That night they sat down in his office and called his tattoo artist, explaining the situation and working the logistics out with him, and it was decided that Shoon would just bring Hikaru in with him to his next tattooing session, the first tuesday of August, and they’d do Hikaru’s arm then. Those eleven days went by fast paced in the whirl of everyday life, and it felt like he’d been snuck up on when the day came for Hikaru to get his tattoo.

They left right after lunch, and Shoon had been nervous about the whole process, but Hikaru seemed calm, chatting and joking with Shoon the whole way to their destination, only falling silent once they’d entered the shop. Hikaru got his done first, done the western way with a machine, it was much faster than Shoon’s sessions, the artist freehanding thick black lines artfully up Hikaru’s arm and shoulder. Hikaru bit his lip a bit, but he gave no other indications that he was in any pain, and when the tattoo was finished, and he got a chance to see himself and his new reflection for the first time he broke out in a smile. Then it was time for Shoon to get into the tattooist’s chair, and he laid on his stomach, chatting with Hikaru as the hours passed, and the sun gave way to night.

It wasn’t until after they’d left the shop that Hikaru said, breaking a lull in the conversation

“Thanks Mayo.” Shoon looked over at Hikaru, and he found himself truly observing and contemplating the fifteen year old kid walking next to him. Hikaru was nearly completely unrecognizable in contrast to his seven year old self. He had evolved from the scrawny, sickly, addiction riddled boy—the boy high on heroin and half conscious, with vomit on his worn jacket and the ends of his sneakers, left for dead in the cold of winter—to this teen. This confident, strong, healthy teen with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. This teen with a sharp wit and the ability to inspire others to want to try harder, to want to do better, and it was flooring just how far Hikaru had come. And Shoon found himself replying, the words rising out of him a truth that was undeniable

“I’m immensely proud of you, you know.” A blush tinted Hikaru’s cheeks pink at the words, and he ducked his head, nodding. Shoon smiled, reaching up and giving Hikaru a pat on the back as they rounded the last corner, their home coming into view. And as they went in, and he watched as the other boys all flocked to Hikaru, he didn’t think he’d ever be more proud of anything.


End file.
